


New Age

by NoelleTuttle



Series: A New Age [1]
Category: Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Assassins, Demons, Dragons, F/M, Kidnapping, M/M, Pirates, Qunari, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-28
Updated: 2016-03-03
Packaged: 2018-04-28 13:30:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 21
Words: 99,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5092556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoelleTuttle/pseuds/NoelleTuttle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While hunting a blood mage with the Inquisition Templar's Hawke is suddenly pulled into a time rift. He wakes up in Kirkwall in an eight year old boy on the day he first arrived in Kirkwall. But he wasn't there with his family and nobody seemed to know who he was. Now he has to live alone in Kirkwall as an orphan aposate. He wants to change the future for the better. But will Fate let him?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Same Old Bad Things

**Author's Note:**

> Greetings!  
> As all of you know I don't own Dragon Age. This is written purely for my satisfaction. I hope you enjoy!

The smell of death stains the air, lingering in the nostrils and the mouth as Hawke tries to breathe. He stands at the entrance of a cave, looking in at the horrific scene within. Headless bodies of soldier’s were impaled on wooden stakes and stood like a sick honor guard lining the entrance. Behind him a wrenching sound from one of the Inquisition men being sick into the bushes. It’s taken many years for Hawke’s stomach to harden against the smell of death. 

Hawke glanced over the soldier’s; nine Templars stood in shiny silver armor each of them as disgusted as himself but also grim faced and prepared for battle. Behind them was a squad of the Inquisition soldier’s, each face a mixture of terror, horror and dismay. Despite Cullen’s assurance that all of them were trained warriors, Hawke had his doubts that they were seasoned warriors. The Inquisitor had insisted that they accompany him but now he wished that he had refused. Hawke knew how unreliable such inexperienced men can be in battle. In this uncertain situation Hawke needed men to be able to stand at his back through whatever may come at them. He turned to address one of the scout placed under his command. 

“Elroy, Vernus” he called to the elven rouge and the blonde mage. “What do you think?”

“Other than this is disturbing? I see no signs of physical traps.” Elroy replied as he covered his face with his scarf. 

“Potentially a spell lingers, but . . . ” Vernus trailed off studying the entrance.

“Vernus, are there any spells?” he pushed for answer knowing the mage was stunned by the scene. But despite his innocence Vernus had a large wealth of knowledge of magic and how to counter it.

Slowly he said, “Not a trap spell, but a lingering presence of magic on the bodies. I do believe that these were used in a blood magic ritual.” All around Hawke growling and curses echoed from the Templar’s at the mention of blood magic. Hawke turned to address the warriors placed under his command.

“Sergeant Fareman, you will take your men and head left around the cliff. You are to search for any exits that may lead into this cave. Sergeant Severn you will take your men and head to the right doing the same. Captain Ducret, you and the rest of your Templars will follow me into the caverns. I don’t want anyone escaping this cave.” Even as Hawke spoke, he saw the soldier’s relax, and gather themselves.

Captain Arnaud Ducret spoke up, “Wouldn’t it be better if all the Inquisition forces and I accompany you. We don’t know how many of them there are in that cave.”

“No, we don’t. But I doubt many would willingly live in such a hell hole. We don’t know much about these caves, and I’m not willing to let even one bastard escape. This bloody murder will end today!” Hawke voice was hard and it hit the captain hard. He bowed his head in acknowledgment crossing his chest with his fists. Hawke turned to stare back down the cavern. For once he was thankful for the darkness of a cave as it shadowed his view of the gruesome details. 

“Vernus and Elroy, we will go first and search for traps, and spells. Samara and Skyler, you will bring up the rear. Follow in pairs the rest of you, and watch each other backs. Ready your weapon’s Inquisition.” 

The decent into the cave were worse than Hawke had anticipated. Headless bodies of humans and elves alike greeted them at each turn. Each of them was string up like puppets forced to hold positions. There were elves dressed as servants and were made to hold brooms and trays. In one room there were a couple of children holding toys. The cave was furnished with miss matching furniture that was clearly stolen. It gave the caves an unworldly sense to them, and stood the hair on the back of his neck up

Hawke had been called in to aid the Inquisition when many people of surrounding farms went missing. They had hoped to find them alive but that hope died as they went deeper into the caves. Hawke had heard about the murderer that they were chasing. His name was Jehanel Esnault, and he was once a wealthy Altus. But with the fall of Corypheus and the destruction of the Venatori he was arrested, awaiting his trial. But Esnault had escaped and now it seemed that he was trying to rebuild what he lost in an twisted way.

The tunnels suddenly opened into a large cavern that was lit by a large chandelier hanging from the roof. A long wooden table stood in the center of the room set up with a full feast on it. In each of the chairs a headless body sat. Hawke began scanning the room for danger when he noticed the heads. Samara gasped when she saw them, drawing the rest of the Templar’s attention to the end of the cavern. Spread across the wall was a giant magic circle drawn with dark blood. Placed in key points of the runes mounted like trophies were the heads of all the bodies they had seen. Every one of their sightless eyes stared at them in silent terror. The sight overwhelmed them and stunned the group into silence

“That’s not possible...” Vernus gasped breaking the silence. “Do you see the spiral sections, Hawke? Do you know what this means!” Hawke clenched his staff realizing what Vernus was indicating. A chill ran through Hawke’s blood, causing his body to shiver slightly. 

“How about you tell the rest of us. We aren’t mages and aren’t schooled in the arcane arts,” Captain Ducret asked harshly.

“This blood rune is trying to open a way into the Fade.” Vernus explained.

“Great another rift.”

“No, it’s different than a simple tear in the veil! It’s trying manipulate the Fade...or reality. I’m not sure.” Vernus shook his head. 

“I thought you were a expert in identifying magic. That’s why we brought you.” 

“Well excuse me for not being well versed in blood rituals. It’s not like they are forbidden and never written down.” Vernus snapped.

“Enough,” Hawke said firmly. “We need to focus. This ritual is almost complete, we need to stop it.”

“Then let’s break it,” Ducret stepped forward raising his sword over his head. Hawke acted quickly smashing the crystal end of his staff into the captain’s face knocking him down.

Fury coursed through his veins and he glared dagger’s at the Templar, as he snarled, “Fool! Are you trying to kill us all? You don’t simply break a rune of this power. It would destroy the cave and us along as well.” Ducret stared up at him in astonishment, hand covering the blooming bruise forming on his cheek. 

“Yes, as it is we have unravel the rune magic,” Vernus explain, “That’s going to take time since someone decided to bring only two mages on his venture.” 

“It was not his decision, Vernus. I didn’t realize how bad this situation was going to be. We were only facing a single blood mage” Hawke waved at the wall. “As it is we still haven’t found Esnault. But we can’t ignore this ritual. Its destruction must be our first priority.” 

“I am afraid I can’t allow you to do that,” a voice echoed in the cavern. The sight of the runes had distracted them, so nobody noticed the appearance of Jehanel Esnault in an alcove above them. 

“It seems we have uninvited guests in our halls. May I ask who you are?” Jehanel voice echoed across the cavern and the Templars jumped into action forming a defensive square. The two archers’ Samara and Skyler targeted their arrows at Jehanel, and the Vernus began to chant preparing their spells. Hawke raised his stone armor around himself and stood separate from the Templars. 

“We are the Inquisition, Jehanel. Stop this madness and surrender yourself.” Captain Ducret called. Jehanel was on the wrong side of forty, hair greying at ends. He was once beautiful but imprisonment and stress created dark circles under his eyes and deep lines across his face. He wore rich robes of yellow and purple that were stain with blood. Old blood crusted across his face and over his hands. He had mad look in his eyes. 

“Ah, the Inquisition. They say the Inquisitor saved us from the Corypheus. But did he? Corypheus would have brought change to this broken world. He would have led us to the Golden City and brought us salvation, free us from death.” 

“There is no Golden City and death come for us all,” Hawke said darkly, reading his magic.

“You would know all about that wouldn’t you, Champion,” Jehanel sneered at him looking down his crooked nose. 

“Yes I know who you are. The traitor mage, who led the Templars against his own kind. You don’t save anyone. You kill and kill. I kill as well.” Jehanel began rambling. “I killed the Tevinter men who came after me. I killed those who called me a monster. I killed those who refused to be ruled by me. I will rule now in replacement of Corypheus.”

“He’s mad,” Vernus said, disgust dripping in his voice. 

“You just figured that out now. I knew that from all the headless bodies everywhere,” replied Elroy trying to joke. I hushed them, this was not the time for banter. 

“That right I am an Altus, and this is my kingdom. You will follow me or die. Maybe you should die and follow me anyway,” Jehanel declared. His hands began glowing yellow, and the corpses that sat at the table stood up knocking over their chairs and turn toward them. 

Hawke didn’t need to waste his breath to order the attack, as the archers shot their arrows at the nearest corpses, but the arrows didn’t slow them. So the next shot was a white-tipped arrow of faith which burned the undead and damaged. The Templars raised their swords that began to burn with holy flames that causes lingering damage to the corpses. 

“Vernus, step back. You’re spells are going to be affected by the Templars abilities. Focus your attacks on Jehanel.” Hawke commanded. Jehanel who had erected a magical shield over the alcove protecting himself from the archers shots. He was too high for the Templars to affect him. But Vernus wasn’t a battle mage and his spells were too weak dissipating when connecting to the barrier. 

Hawke gathered his energies, raising a stone from the ground and directed it at the cave wall above the alcove Jehanel causing the ceiling to cave in. Jehanel quickly jumped out of the alcove and was floating into the air still surrounded by his magical shield.

“How does he have so much power?” Hawke wondered aloud.

“He’s wearing a lyrium crystal pendant! Those are extremely rare and powerful.” Vernus called out as he got a closer look at Jehanel. 

Jehanel floated down directly in front of the blood rune, a large pool of magic in his hands. But his focus was directed on his corpses, and to defend himself. This means that he couldn’t attack them since his attention was so divided. But he didn’t need to as the Templar were already being overwhelmed by the corpses poring into the cavern. Hawke knew they needed a way to get to Jehanel, then he saw his chance.

Hawke signaled Elroy with a gesture of his hand and the elf nodded, one of the few who can read hand signals. He dropped out of sight into the shadow, circling the room toward the rope holding up the chandelier. None of the corpses noticed him as Hawke cast a misdirection spell to confuse the enemies. Except Jehanel. Jehanel attention had been caught by the glint of Elroy’s knife glinting off the candle light as he went to cut the rope. He quickly threw a ball of fire at Elroy which exploded upon impact leaving Elroy limp against the wall. 

Hawke felt his own fury rising and consume him like fire. One of his charges had been severely injured or was dead; his blood burned and his vision closed in around himself. Hawke turned his battle rage toward Jehanel and charged through the undead knocking them aside with a mind blast. A roar of anger left his lips and it echoed across the cavern. Jehanel turned his attention to Hawke, his mouth beginning to form a spell. Then Hawke threw cast a dispel at Jehanel shattering his magical shield. Hawke directed a large stone at the mage, hitting him in the gut and knocked him to the ground.

Jehanel gasped in pain, and struggled to stand. He gathered his headless corpses around him, but Ducret met their attack with his shield. Hawke punched another with his stone spiked fist as Ducret stabbed the down corpse. Recovered Jehanel cast a wall of fire forcing Ducret to step back. 

Hawke strengthen his stone armor and shut his eyes, as he walked through the flames. Jehanel saw Hawke trailing flames as he came closer and his eyes widen in fear. Then he began to laugh like a drunken madman.   
“The monster . . . the demon . . . he comes to kill me,” Jehanel cried. Hawke was almost on top of him now and he tried desperately to raise his shield again. But Hawke was too close, and he slapped the mage across the face with his armor hand breaking the spell. 

Hawke grabbed him by the throat, slamming him into the rune covered wall. Hawke’s sharp finger points dag into his flesh and snarled, “Enough.”

Jehanel was delusional with terror and madness, and he began ranting, “Kill, and kills. The Champion just kills. Kill . . . ”

Then Hawke snapped his neck, the crack was audible across the cavern, and said “You will kill no more.” The apostate head fell lopsidedly against his neck, his eye stared at Hawke sightless and full of terror, just like the heads that lined the wall. Hawke felt sick to his stomach, and dropped the mage to the floor. The fire in his veins no longer burned and Hawke took a few short breaths to calm himself. He had lost control of his rage, again. He has lost too many people and he could no longer hid the darkness inside anymore. He needed to meditate to find his center again. 

Captain Ducret step up beside Hawke and placed a hand on his shoulder, “Are you alright?”

Instead of answering Hawke asked, “What about Elroy?”

“Concussed and a bit bruised, but he should be fine.” Vernus answered from behind them. “I had managed to form a shield to protect him, but the force of the blasted knocked the shield into Elroy and then he hit the wall which knocked him out.”

“Anyone else dead?” Hawke asked scanning the Templars. They grunted in the negative as they drank their health potions from their packs. They moved away from the corpses not wanting to touch them. 

Hawke turned his attention back to the blood runes trying to ignore the corpse of Jehanel. The markings were glowing faintly like burning embers. Hawke wondered if they had been doing that before. This felt wrong to him.

“Well lets get to dismantling this beast,” Vernus lifted his hand glowing. Before Hawke could stop him, Vernus directed his magic towards the rune. The blood rune burst alive, the lines glowed increased and the severed heads began to burn. 

Hawke raised his shield and cried, “Stop, Vernus!” He turned to see that Vernus eyes had rolled back into his head, magic being drawn out of him.

“What’s happening!” Ducret cried, trying to grab Vernus but was forced away by the magic.

“The rune has been activated!” Hawke replied and he began to cast a dispel but it broke. The stone wall began to look like it was melting, twisting in on it self. Blood red sparks shot out and Hawke protected them with the shield. 

“Do something!” Ducret demanded placing himself behind Hawke.

“I am!” Hawke shouted back. He felt his magic begin dragged out of him zapping his strength. He forced his control along the connection but the rune was distorted and wildly out of control. The cavern began shaking, green glow forming in cracks along the wall. Vernus fell to his kneels arms up, magic still drawing from him. Hawke knew he needed more power before he collapse. Then he remembered Jehanel lyrium crystal pendant.

Hawke grabbed it from around Jehanel neck and holding it in his hand and activated it. He felt the smooth follow of magic fill him and he directed it towards the rune. He let his magic flow in to the rune and he began controlling the wild magic forcing it into smooth lines. The shaking began to stop the runes glow turn from red to a light blue. He stood straighter allowing the magic to circle around him and Vernus who gasped as his breath returned. The magic began swirling coloring the wall in beautiful lights that amazing Hawke. 

A snap of power ended Hawke’s control, and blinding white light filled to room. A white rift had formed in front of Hawke, cutting the wall open. It was beautiful and Hawke reached out towards it. Suddenly Hawke felt himself caught by the pull of the rift and he was drawn into that white light. The cavern disappeared behind him Hawke was swallowed by the rift. Hawke’s vision was full of white light and he felt like he was drowning in that white light. Magic white light filled every inch of his body and Hawke began to feel himself change. It was painful like he was beginning forced in on himself. He felt molded like a piece of clay into something new. The light became darkness and Hawke could feel anything any more.

Then Hawke was released and he gasped with relief. He felt like he was free from a shell. He could feel again; hard stone pressed against his back, the warm of the sun on his skin. He could smell the sea and taste the salt on the air. Above him he saw a cloudless blue sky. When Hawke’s brain began to process his senses he shot up. He discovered he was on a sand color roof top. He could see the sea at the roof edge, and rocky cliffs raised up from it. Bronze statues of despairing slaves were mounted on them. Recognizing them he spun around and stared in shock at what he saw. The city of Kirkwall lay before him.


	2. Beginning Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hawke back in Kirkwall what will happen now?  
> Read and find out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here again? Excellent! Lets continue the story. Enjoy!

Kirkwall, City of Chains. Hawke hadn’t seen it since he left to prevent a Exulted March on the city. But he knew it in his soul, every ash covered building and flapping flag. He was back. Confused he brought up his hand to run his fingers through his hair and froze. He stared in shock at his small hand. He touched his face to find his beard gone, replaced by smooth baby soft skin. He was shorter than before, the short wall around the roof top coming up to eye level with him. 

“What the...” Hawke began and gasped. His voice was no longer a deep baritone but the high squeak of a young boy. “No...” The ritual had changed his body to that of a young boy. It had even molded his armor around his body to fit him perfectly. His staff was no where to be seen but he had dropped it when he felt the pull of the rift. But he found the lyrium pendant in his hand and he shoved it into his pocket.

His thought shattered into different direction. How was he going to change himself back. Was there any side effects? Could he still use his magic? Hawke drew fire into his hand. 

“Well that’s one question answered,” Hawke said aloud. “Focus Hawke. Figure out how to get rid of transfiguration later. Right now you should find a way to contact the Inquisition.” He went to the edge of the roof to find out where he had appeared. Bellow him he saw the docks of the Gallows. Two ships had been moored and a stream of passenger walked the docks. He studied them, most of them carried only single bags and no weapons. Each of them held relief of making to land. Hawke remembered that feeling, and of the land moving beneath his feet despite his protests. 

Hawke’s vision narrowed on a small group, he recognized that mop of carrot red. It was Aveline, dressed more simply than he had seen her in years. Donnic loved buying her fancy clothes and she only wore them to see him smile. Hawke smiled, he knew Aveline wouldn’t be pleased to see him back in Kirkwall but would be happy to see that he was still alive. Hawke grabbed the edge of the roof and jumped down onto a canopy that cushioned his drop. He made his way through the crowd of people drawing looks at his armor. Hawke began thinking of ways to explain his situation to Aveline.

Then he heard her say, “They aren’t letting anyone into the city.”

“What? That can’t be.” Hawke froze in his track. He knew that voice. He pushed past a man to look at Aveline and the group following her. His heart stopped at what he saw. Hawke couldn’t draw breath for fear of shattering the image. His family stood five feet away from him. All of them alive and well.

“It’s true look at them all,” Aveline pointed out.

“Are we really surprised?” Carver shrugged. 

“They’re Fereldans, just like us. Fleeing for their lives.” Bethany looked at her mother. 

“This can’t be...” he thought. He had watched each of them die. Bethany slaughtered by a ogre then tossed aside like a broken rag doll. Carver slowly succumbing to the poison of the Blight, and asking him to give him the mercy of dying by his hand. His mother, smiling at him with dull eyes and stitched up body that a mad mage had made. 

“This can’t be real. No.. This is a illusion. A piece of the fade twisted to get his guard down.” Hawke thought, stepping away from the sight. He wouldn’t fall for this trick and he rushed away to hide behind a pile of crate. Even though he hadn’t run far, his breath came out in ragged gasps. He steadied himself again a wall staring sightless at it.

“Breathe...calm down,” Hawke told himself, feeling his heart pounding in his chest. “You need to find a away out. This is the Fade.” He focused on his methods of waking himself and breaking out of the Fade, but nothing worked. This place didn’t feel like the Fade. Not like when he dreamed or even when he had gone their physically. He knelt down clutching his head. He needed to think but the image of his family kept swimming in his mind.

“Are you ok, son?” a armored hand grabbed his shoulder. Hawke reacted on instant and shocked it as he pushed away. He turned to find a Templar nursing his hand. He began to apologize when the Templar activated his abilities and his magic drained away. Hawke's thoughts ran slow as he realized what had happened. Templars couldn’t use their abilities in the Fade it wasn’t physical possible in a realm made of magic. This wasn’t the Fade this was reality.

He must have looked so shocked standing there because the Templar knelt down in front of him. “Its ok, son. It will be ok. I’ll take you to the Circle and they will be able to help you.” This made Hawke snap out of his thoughts. Hawke waved a hand in front of the Templar face and the man fell sideways asleep. 

Hawke looked around and assured himself that nobody had seen them. He picked up a ragged piece of a old sail and rapped it around himself covering his armor. His armor stood out too much and he needed to avoid the Templars now. He had been doing that all his life so he fell back on old habits. He snuck into the gallows.

“If this is reality does that mean that they are real as well?” Hawke thought desperately. He reached the Gallows courtyard and found his family in battle with some mercenaries. Hawke hid in the shadows of the pillars watching them. Carver and Bethany worked easily as a team which Aveline fit nicely into. The fighting as over quickly and the guardsman thanking them. 

Hawke retreated into a secluded corner to collect his thoughts. “This is the past, I remember this day. The first day we arrived in Kirkwall. But if this is the past then why don’t I see myself down there?” 

He brought out the lyrium crystal pendant and examined it closely. The blue crystal had turned a deep black, the silver chain it was on was also blackened. He touched it to find runes carved into the crystal, but they were simple enchantments. Hawke thumped the back of his head against the wall in frustration.

“There is only one soul, so there can’t be two of me.” a dark thought began forming. “And if their can’t be two of me. Then if I was placed here, there was never a Garret Hawke in Loithering. I never led my family through the Blight and Bethany was never killed by that ogre.” Hawke gathered his makeshift cloak around him, stopped thinking and fell asleep.

 

Hawke awoke to the sense of being touched. He shot out his hand and cast a sleep spell. The would-be thief collapsed to the ground with a soft thud. Hawke stood up studying the rogue, and went through his pockets. He collect a number of coins, a dagger and half a loaf of bread. Hawke munched on the bread as he walked away finding it stale. It had been three days and the bread was a welcome meal. He had been forced into hiding as the Templar’s began searching the Gallows for a mage child. He couldn’t chance going into the open to get a meal. 

So he was grateful for the thieves attacking him. He would lie in wait for someone to get too close to him then turn on them. Hawke found sleeping spells the best option. The victim made no noise and it didn’t leave a dead body for the Templars to find. He took their belongings mainly their food. But the thieves were starting to get wise about him and they started to leave his little cloaked figure alone. Hawke slid into the shadow of a statue peering around it to see his family and Aveline sitting waiting in the Gallows courtyard for Gamlen to make his appearance. 

Hawke found himself wondering for the hundredth time if he should approach them. But he shook his head. “What would they think? They would think I’m mad or lying.” That was the last thing he needed. Hawke couldn’t bare the idea of his family dismissing him like he was some stranger. He wouldn’t recover from that. He was barely holding himself together as it was. 

Then he noticed Gamlen enter the courtyard. The group saw him and his mother rushed to hug him. Hawke didn’t need to hear what was being said, he could remember. A year of servitude to the master of their choice. Hawke had nearly been sick thinking about that day. But in the end it had turned out good for him. He had earned a reputation that attracted Varric and everything else that came to him. It had got his family into the city and he knew it would now.

“Now how am I going to get into the city.” Hawke wondered to himself. “I can’t use the same method as I did before. Or can I?” Hawke felt a idea forming in his head. 

He slipped out of his hiding place and followed his sibling and Aveline as they talked to their two options the Mercenary Meran and the smuggler Athenril. It was clear that Bethany was letting Carver lead as she hung back trying not to be notice. She always did that, but Hawke had kept Carver in check. Now Carver was arrogant about it. He would choose Meran, he had like that option. But Hawke had chosen Athenril because it allowed him to hide his abilities and the Red Iron were too high profile. 

Meran task Hawke found was to kill a double crosser, and Carver was all too willing to do it. They went back and Meran agreed to pay their way into the city. Hawke snuck away and headed towards where Athenril was leaving. Hawke approached her directly, long cloak draped over him and his hood pulled up to hide his face. 

“Athenril. I heard you are willing to pay a way into Kirkwall in exchanged for a apostate services for a year. I am a mage and I am willing to do what you want to get into the city.” Hawke stated in a low voice. 

“And who would you be?” Athenril studied him with an amused smile.

“Hawke” he said before could think. 

“So not one of the Amell siblings. Then how do you know about this deal?” 

“They’re using mother’s name?” he thought quickly before replying. “I happen to over hear them talking. And since they decided to serve the Red Iron, I decided to come and offer my services to you.” 

“Hmm, if you can prove that you’re a mage and worth my time. Then I’ll think about it.”

“What do want me to do?” Hawke asked hesitantly.

“Cast a spell without anyone knowing” Athenril ordered. Hawke nodded and hiding the movement of his hands beneath his cloak cast a sleep spell at Athenril’s two guards. The men collapsed to the ground and Athenril glanced at them with her eyebrows raised in surprised.

“I’m impressed. You cast easily without a staff or a word.” she turned back to him. “Very well. I have a task for you then. There is a merchant named Cavril. He’s a friend of the Templars so they let him set up a little shop in the Gallows. We supplied him in return for a piece of the take, but now he won’t pay up. We can’t go near him without him screaming for the guard. But you can. Get our money from him and your in.” 

Hawke nodded and slid away along the wall toward the spot he had seen Cavril set up shop. He needed to be smart about this. He didn’t have Aveline to intimidate the merchant. 

Hawke drew back his hood and approach the merchant with a meek expression on his face. “I heard you buy things. I have a ring my mother wanted to sell.” Hawke had his head bowed hands clenched tight against his chest. 

Cavril gave a fake smile, “Do you now. May I see it?”

Hawke nodded and held out a tiny ring he had got off a thief. The merchant reached out to grab it. As quick as a snake he grabbed Cavril’s wrist and with a strength that surprised the merchant and pull him down to Hawke’s level. 

The merchants guard went for their swords, but Hawke whispered to them. “Don’t move. I have a dagger press to something very important to this man.” Cavril squeaked as he felt the point of the dagger press against his groin. The guards didn’t move and released their swords. 

“I believe you owe your business partners something?” Hawke whispered in Cavril’s ear.

“Athenril sent you? Too cowardly that she sent some welp to do her dirty work.” he gasped as the dagger’s pressure increased.

“Please don’t insult me. I know you prey on those who are desperate and weak. It won’t weight on my conscience if I killed you. Then I’d just take the money from your corpse.” Hawke’s voice was cold and hard, nothing like a child’s voice. It made Cavril break out in a cold sweat.

“Here take the key to the chest. That should be enough to pay that witch.” He took the key from his pocket and held it out. Hawke took it but didn’t move the knife. “ I’ll leave if that’s what you want. Some one else can buy dog-land junk.” 

Hawke grunted, “Do not come back.” Cavril slunk away with his two guards behind him. Hawke collected what was in the chest. 

He knew Cavril’s guards were following him as he made his way towards Athenril. Away from the eyes of the Templars he cast frost runes on the ground which the guards activated. Once frozen Hawke began to pick them off with fire blasts. One guard managed to break through and charge Hawke. But before Hawke could form a spell the man was hit in the eye with a dagger. The single man left ran off without confronting him. Athenril stepped forward and took her knife back, cleaning the blood off it. 

Hawke handed her the money, “Here you go, the money as you requested.” 

“Well look at that. And it was all done in silence without alerting the guards.” Athenril said looking him over. “You have a deal, Hawke.”

She held out her hand and Hawke shook it, “Good. I look forward to working with you.”

“You better. You aren’t getting out of this arrangement for a year,” she stated. “If you don’t mind me asked how old are you, Hawke?”

“Eight,” he replied. After looking at his reflection he had decided that he had his eight year old body.

“Hmm, and you can use magic so perfectly.”

Hawke shrug, “I’m a quick study.”

“I like hearing that,” Athenril turn away. “Come along Hawke. You’ll return to the city with us tonight.”

Hawke pulled up his hood as he followed them to a small dock, and waited as Athenril paid a guard to let him through. She gestured to him and Hawke boarded a small vessel. 

“Welcome aboard, Hawke.” Athenril said as he sat down. Hawke didn’t say anything as he stared at the approaching city. He wondered how long he was going to stay in this messed up time line. He feared the answer. 


	3. White Vipers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hawke make a new home in Kirkwall. And fights a pirate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Greeting, Again!  
> Good to see your this there. Here the nest chapter in Hawke's new adventure.

Hawke has discovered a new side of Kirkwall, one he knew existed but hadn’t experienced before. Darktown, the city under Kirkwall built in the tunnels of the abandoned mines. Here the diseased, the insane, and the criminal make their home in the maze of tunnels and forgotten passages. Hawke navigated his way through the damp tunnels marking his way in the phosphorescent lichen. In the beginning every person was a potential danger, many trying their hand at getting him. But down here Hawke doesn't have to hold back his abilities, and after a few corpses left in his wave people began to leave him alone.

He became known as the orphan apostate. He didn’t wear his Champion armor choosing a dark grey cloak to hide beneath. He chose not to wield a staff, mostly because he couldn’t find one for his height but also because he need to blend into the background. A child walking around with a staff was too noticeable. He had no allies and no wealth to hide behind, the Templar's could too easily over power him. Hawke it didn't take him long to learn to focus his magic with out a staff enhancement. So he choose to be safe rather than over powered. 

So he left what he didn’t want found deep in the tunnels of Darktown. In searching for a secure place to rest Hawke stumbled into a block off mine shaft. The endless pit had a broken shaft elevator and a operating shack. Here he made his home, fixing the building and making a bed for himself. It was perfect for him because it had several hidden exits as well as one only a child could fit through. He called it the Pit but it allowed him the safety of seclusion. 

Here he could experiment with runes and the crystal pendant without being reported. Soon half written runes covered the stone walls. Hawke was still finding a way to get himself back to his own time line. But he wasn’t a expert on magical theory, most of what he had learned was in the field, and a bit from his father. He knew the circles had more resources but that wasn’t an option. One; he couldn’t allow anyone to know about the possibility of time magic. Two; he would have his body experimented on. He would have to hold everything close to his chest.

His work with Athenril was the only thing next to food that brought Hawke out of the Pit. Today he gathered his meager supplies and made his way through the tunnels towards the lower docks. Athenril smuggling vessel was docked in her own private dock that she fiercely protected. Today Hawke noticed the two new guards on duty. 

“That odd for Athenril,” Hawke thought as he hesitated beneath a torch. “She never pairs two new faces with each other.”

The guards noticed him and called out, “There you are runt. The boss is calling for you get yourself inside and report.” He was going to say some thing else but the other guard thumped his shoulder. They pushed open the door and Hawke had no choice but to walk in. 

Athenril base was divided into several rooms and one main room. Here Hawke found himself staring at a group of thugs with drawn weapons. Most of them were unknown to him. The three girls that Athenril employed to clean the building and write contracts were tied in the corner of the room. Hawke tucked his hands into is cloak ready to cast a barrier. When he felt a tap his shoulder. He turn to be greeted by the shaft of a crossbow. 

“None of that, lad. Raise your hands up where I can see then,” the crossbow holder ordered. Hawke reluctantly did as he was ordered. Hawke felt his hood tugged back and now he could see his captor.

“Clay? What do you think you are doing?” Hawke asked fiercely eyeing the rogue. Clay was a archer or more an assassin. He was the smugglers look out. He wore thick leathers that covered his sleek stature and crossed across his chest. He had a short stubble beard, ragged brown hair that Hawke was never sure was intentional or not. 

“Taking you captive. The boss doesn’t want you damaged, so don’t try anything. Come along on.” he gestured with the point of his crossbow. Hawke began walking down the hall with his hands on his head. 

“Which boss?” Hawke asked he could feel to crossbow hovering behind his head. He knew that Clay accepted multiple contracts and that Athenril would never do something like this.

“Always said you were smart.” Clay chuckled and said, “You’ll meet him soon enough.”

They reached Athenril office, a guard opened the door and Hawke was roughly pushed inside. Hawke stumbled unable to keep his balance with his hands were on his head. Hawke forced himself to stand straight. He looked up to see a pirate leaning against Athenril desk. 

Hawke knew he was a pirate because he dress in a similar style as Isabella. He wore a black leather and red clothe in the Tevinter style. Too much copper skin and a all too dangerous dagger spinning in his grip. That and he had an eyepatch. So Hawke was going to call him a pirate anyway. 

He turned to Hawke grin at him in a way that show too much teeth, “Greetings, hope you weren't treated too badly.”

“Other than having a crossbow forced in my face?” Hawke watched the relaxed curve of the man body as braced himself on the palms of his hands. The man was coiled like a whip, not a immediate danger but easily wielded in a moment.

“I assure you these methods are necessary.” he giggled, kneading the edge of the desk. “I’ve seen you in battle and I would hate to lose such a valuable asset.”

Hawke eyes narrowed, as his memory supplied a recent encounter, “You're that pirate that tried to take our cargo a few months back.”

“That right, little man. So smart.” the pirate mocked, he let go of the desk to stand towering over Hawke. “Ravinger Gineste, Captain of the White Vipers.”

“What do you want, pirate?” Hawke stared directly at the man even though it hurt his neck.

“Oh I want many thing, my lad.” Ravinger stated, then in a flash grabbed Hawke’s hand. “But what I want from you is your magical talent.” Hawke grimace and forced himself not to pull away. The pirate was vibrating with excitement.

“It was to be all so simple. Ambush a little vessel on its smuggling run, capture the leader and take over the ring. But imagine my surprised when I found my sail frozen solid and still fifty paces from the ship. When we got closer it began raining fireballs on my ship. So I left the little vessel.” he rubbed his thumb over the top of Hawke's hands making Hawke cringe. “You can’t image my astonishment when I learn that it all came from such a little hand.” 

Ravinger let Hawke go and spun around, “So I revised my plan and here we stand where I was suppose to be all those months ago. With your ability on my ship and a base here in Kirkwall nobody can stand in the way of me ruling the seas. Oh the thrill.” 

Hawke kept his face impassive through the rant, and in a monotone, “And what if I refuse?”

Ravinger snapped around grabbing Hawke face making him gasp. “You think you’d be allowed to refuse me?”

The man eyes were full of madness and fury. It filled him with fear that he couldn’t face it. Hawke snapped his eyes closed focusing on not cringing in fear. He wanted to kick out, to get the mad man away from him. He need to breathe, he was too small to handle the pirate. 

“When had I ever thought like that?” Hawke inner voice called to him. “I’m mother-damn Hawke. Champion of Kirkwall. I’ve faced dragons, the Arishok and a giant fear demon. This man is nothing compared to them.” That cast the sudden fear away.

Hawke straighten his spine, open his eyes to stare back at the pirate, and simply said “I do”

The edges of Ravinger mouth drop low, his nails scraping the back of Hawke head, “Then your still pretty enough to sell.” Hawke and Ravinger continued to stare at each other, a silent battle of wills. 

Suddenly the door thumped open, and a man cried “Captain, you're needed on deck.” 

Ravinger released Hawke, “Perhaps this is too sudden for you. Think about your options, boy. Clay lock him up, please.” The pirate strode out, and Hawke took in a shuttering breath. He felt blood drip down his neck.

“Don’t test the Captain, Hawke.” Clay said suddenly and he held out a handkerchief to him, “He was mere inch from cutting your ears off.” Hawke shrugged and placed the cloth on his head casting a short healing spell.

He handed it back to Clay, saying, “I’ve had closer shaves before.”

“Come along, Hawke.” Clay grabbed his shoulder, crossbow in hand but no longer pointed at Hawke. He lead Hawke down to the tunnels that the base was built on and where the goods were stored then transported. Several of Athenril men lay bound and a bit beaten on the tunnel floors. Clay stopped at an bolted door and opened he lock. The room was pitch black and Clay pushed him into it. A chain with manacles lay bolted to the wall, Clay picked it and locked it around Hawke’s wrists pinned them together in iron.

“Don’t be stubborn Hawke. I’d hate to clean up your body,” Clay stated and shut the door with a heavy thump, leaving Hawke in darkness. Hawke reached out with his hand to find the wall left of him. It was rough from the basic digging. The dwarves would have something to say about that. With his sight taken, is other senses became alert. The room was musky with stale air and he could hear someone breathing.

“Who’s there?” Hawke called softly.

“I was wonder when you would get here, Hawke,” Athenril voice answered from the darkness. Her breathing sounded labored and her voice edged with pain.

“Are you injured?” Hawke asked reaching out to find her in the darkness.

“Bit battered. I’m across the room from you. You think you could use a light spell.” 

“I’d rather not alert them to the fact that I can use magic at the moment.” Hawke replied, as his eyes adjusted to the darkness he could see Athenril form laying on the ground. “Now tell me honestly. How badly are you hurt? I need to know so I can use the correct amount of magic for the healing spell.”

Athenril was quiet a moment before she answered, “Along with a number of bruises, several cuts, broken wrist and two or three broken ribs.”

Hawke hissed in sympathy, “Ok, don’t move. I’ll cast a healing spell now.”

“Imprisoned remember. Not going anywhere.”

“I mean it, don’t even twitch. I’m need to focus my spell exactly were you are.” Hawke stated and he sat down crossed legged. He reached out with his bound hands and let the magic flow from himself to Athenril. It was draining to heal without being able to see the wound. He had to focus on the feel of pain of find the wounds. He felt the ghost pain of Athenril’s injuries as he began healing them. Hawke was never a very good healer, but Anders had taught him some tricks that he used often in the field as he traveled. Hawke wished he could have learned more. Hawke released the spell and he could hear Athenril breathe easier. 

Hawke sagged back against the wall, “I did the best I could. Most of your injuries are healed, except your ribs. But I eased the pain so you should be able to move.”

“Thank you.” Athenril said with gratitude.

“Don’t thank me. I fully expect you to get us out of here and throw that mad pirate into the sea.” Hawke said, a smile twitching on his lips.

“Unfortunately, I can’t pick a lock I can’t reach. Not to mention they out number us.”

“Is that all?” Hawke said a but smug, “ I saw a number of our guys and the girls tied up down here. Only we warrant a cell. I assume they would be happy aid you.”

“They’d better. I only keep one cell. I don’t deal in slaves.” 

“I know. Just give me a moment.” Hawke took a deep breath. “I can handle the door if you can get me out of these chains.”

“Ha, what would I do without you?” Athenril laughed and Hawke could hear the clanking of metal as she worked on her own chains.

“Not be in this mess. That mad pirate came after me because he wants to use my abilities aboard his ship for piracy.” 

“Nah, he’s been after my smuggling business for years after I refused to deal with him.” Athenril said sounding closer. “Now hold out your wrists.” Hawke did as he was told and felt Athenril gently grab them holding them steady as she worked. A moment later a soft click releases Hawke wrists. 

Hawke reached into his robes and pulled out a dagger and held it out to Athenril, “I think you can make use of this?” 

“They didn’t take it from you?” Athenril took the dagger and tested the sharpness. It drew blood with a light touch.

“They didn’t know I had it. It is well hidden and nobody think mages carry weapons. That pirate underestimated me. Good thing too.”

Athenril shook her head and said, “I don’t think anyone can predict you, Hawke.”

“I did get captured.”

“And you used that to your advantage.” Athenril slapped his shoulder. “Unpredictable.”

“How long will you need to rest?” Athenril asked stand up away from him. 

Hawke crawled up and headed to the door. “Not long. Just let me examine this door and figure out the best way to break it down.”

“Why don’t you just blast it?” 

“Why does everyone resort to fire first? I mean there several other spell that would be far more effective.” Hawke lectured as he felt along the door and located the lock and the hinges. 

“Like what?” Athenril said challenging him. Hawke always enjoyed Athenril banter, she had a close group of people that she considered her family. Once she accepted you into that group she treated you like a equal. Hawke stepped back from the door and planted his feet.

“Like this!” Hawke said and grabbed the door hinges with his magic. He pulled and ripped the hinges from the wall. The door thud to the ground then fell into the tunnel. Athenril was moving in a flash, snaking out the door. Hawke follow after gathering his stone armor around himself. Athenril had already down on pirate and was moving toward the second that stood in the hall.

The pirate was raising a knife to throw at Athenril. Hawke cast a spirit bolt hitting the pirate making him drop his weapon. Athenril was on him in the next moment, slicing hit throat open. The spay splattered across Athenril face and she had to wipe the blood out her eyes. She searched on the body gathering the throwing knives and blood the soaked armor. She pulled it over her rags and clipped the daggers in place. 

Athenril paused when she saw Hawke watching. Hawke could see the hesitation in her eye, like she didn’t know how he was going to react to this. But Hawke had see far worse in his life and simple moved past it to look around the corner.

“Just some piles of goods. No guards in sight,” Hawke reported to her. When Hawke looked back he found a different emotion in Athenril expression an mix of pity and uneasy. He turned away an walked away not wanting to see that look. Athenril had kept him on simple jobs keeping him fighting at a distance. He knew that she did this because she saw him as a child, and he knew everyone he was going to meet were going to treat him that way. He protected people from danger, he didn’t let people shelter him. And that wasn’t going to start now.

They found Athenril’s people being chain together by a couple of guards. They made quick work out of them and Athenril’s people were all too willing to get back what was theirs. Hawke let the rouges advance but he kept paces with the warriors, despite their protests. He casts barriers to protect people from their arrow fire, and just as quickly rained fire down on the archer’s positions. The invaders were driven back to the docks where some escaped to the sea but most never made it that far. 

“Still haven’t found that damn mad pirate yet,” Athenril commented glancing around. They began searching the building, slowly searching the office rooms. 

“Or Clay.” Hawke replied, and remind of the assassin presence glanced around the door frame. Clay had taught him a valuable lesson check behind doors for enemies. This meant he saw Clay sight Athenril with his crossbow from the corner of the room. Hawke raised his barrier with a shout. The bolt bounced off the barrier and Athenril turned in a flash towards Clay.

In the same moment Ravinger burst out of the room opposite grabbing Hawke. He cried out as heard the dagger hit the stone armor protecting him. Hawke used a mind blast to knock the pirate away from him. He twirled around to face the pirate, seeing his mad eye. 

“Ohohoh. Little chick, why did you have to make everything so difficult? I would have given the world riches to you. Have men and women bow at your feet. You would have like that never fearing the touch of the Templars or the Circle.” Ravinger ranted circling Hawke daggers half hidden by his arms. 

Hawke couldn’t look away from Ravinger but he knew Athenril was still battling Clay. So he said, “Won’t be your little pet, pirate. I’m not afraid of you. I’ve seen greater horrors than you. You’re a mere minnow compared to them. So stop believing you have any worth.”

Ravinger snarled and threw himself at Hawke daggers flashing. There wasn’t much room for maneuvering but Hawke had learned to avoid close range attack. Hawke dodged the dagger but felt a kick that launched him into the wall. His stone armor broke apart and Hawke gasped in pain. Ravinger gave him a triumphant look as he slaked closer.

Hawke gathered the remainder of his stone armor into a spear. He threw it directly a the closing pirate. The limited space of the hall meant that Ravinger couldn’t dodge the spear, which caught him the chest. The force of Hawke magic threw the pirate to the ground. Hawke got up to finish the deed, back aching. 

He stood over the pirate, who looked at him with astonishment, “I bow to no one.” 

The pirate sputtered blood as he tried to reply and his eyes fade as Hawke watched. He felt cold inside, as he always did when he killed an enemy. He found no pleasure in killing but often survival and necessary drove him to kill. He looked up to see Athenril watching him, a bound Clay at her feet.

“You didn’t kill him.” Hawke indicated Clay.

“You did.” Athenril replied staring at Ravinger body.

Hawke looked away, “He wouldn’t have had it any other way.” Athenril nodded understanding the harsh necessities and patted Hawke shoulder. 

“I have plans for this one. He shouldn’t bother you after what see’s seen.” Athenril hauled Clay up, he was giving Hawke a wide eye stare. 

Suddenly Hawke was very tired, “I’m going to rest.” He made his way toward the entrance stepping around the corpses avoiding people gaze.

“Hawke.” Athenril called, and Hawke looked back. “You’ll be back tomorrow?” She looked tense as she watched him.

Hawke gave her a small smile, “You know it. I still have to pay my debt off for the next nine months.”

Athenril nodded and Hawke left the building, the door shutting with a soft click.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Having mixed feeling about how people should react to a child acting like Hawke. Go a head and comment.


	4. Fennec

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New character. New Twist. Murder and the Chase. Enjoy!  
> Warning violence against children.

After the White Viper incident, Hawke became famous in a underground way. Athenril was flooded with request for Hawke services. But Athenril turn them away say that Hawke was her asset and her’s only. This Hawke was grateful for, he was no longer comfortable with the stares he was getting from the other crew members. As a mage he was use to people seeing him as dangerous creature, but he never felt like they were uneasy with him before. So he isolated himself even more in the Pit. 

At least until he met Fennec. After causing so much death Hawke decided to balance the action my helping others. So when he found a young elf girl battered and bruised wandering lost in the tunnels, he doesn’t hesitate to help her. He brings her back to the Pit heals her wounds and gives her a warm meal. She didn’t speak to him but that was fine for Hawke, he was just glad she let him help her. 

After that she became attached to Hawke, appearing in the Pit day after day and even staying for the night. Hawke didn’t comment trying to focus on the runes, and he enjoyed her company. She would touch him, stroking his hair, fingering his hands and suddenly hugging him. But as suddenly as the contact came she would dart way, so Hawke never tried to touch her back He decided to call her Fennec because her endless energy, blond hair and big ears. She giggled at the name accepting the name. 

Then she began to bring other orphan children to him that have been injured. He healed them, and found himself offering them shelter. Soon his little shack became full of orphans and abandon children of Darktown. He began making more beds and building on to the shack. They seem afraid of him at first and his magic. But his continued unquestioning presence of healing and food wore them down. He decide to make his own bed in a old mining cart that he filled with straw and fur pelts. It was very warm, and more than once he found some children sneak in with him. Some of the smaller children began drawing on the walls like he did, often over his own runes to his frustration.

The children of the Pit decides to give themselves animal names like Hawke and Fennec did. Nug was a quiet and nervous nine year old boy with white blond hair and even whiter skin. Fawn and her sister, Hart were a pair of red headed girls who were agile and strong. Kitten and cub were toddler twins adopted by a kind girl named Songbird. Bear was the largest and oldest among them at eighteen. Adults weren’t welcomed in the Pit. Hawke found himself living with a large family again. And it warmed his heart.

One day, Fennec suddenly dragged him out of Darktown into Lowtown. Hawke hadn’t been here for fear of seeing his family. He didn’t want to become attached to this time line for when he would make his way back to his own. Fennec climbed up a wall then gestured for him to follow.

Hawke gave the wall a critical look, but thought, “If she could do it. So can I.” He climbed using bricks and canopies as hand holds. When he reached the top Hawke laid out gasping and out of breath. Fennec bended over him to look at him and giggle. He made a face at her. When he stood up she grabbed his hand and led him over the roof tops. It was a whole new map of walkways and passages that Hawke never knew about. 

They stopped on a high roof top over looking the harbor, and the rising sun. The yellow and pink light of the sun was reflected in the water making it glow. A cool and clean breeze blew past Hawke and he stretched his arms out breathing it in. He released the tension of his body, relaxing in a way he hadn’t since he had come to this time. 

“So can you fly?” Fennec suddenly asked. Hawke was so surprise by the fact she was speaking that he didn’t understand the question. 

She asked again, “Why don’t you spread your wings and fly?”

Hawke raised his eyebrows “Because I don’t have wings.”

“Is that why you trap yourself in the tunnels? You can’t stand the pain of seeing the sky you can’t fly in?” her wide eyes stared at Hawke watching him.

Hawke rubbed his neck and thought about his answer. Was it painful to see Kirkwall again, to see his family again alive and whole. So he answered honestly, “Yes it’s painful.”

Fennec suddenly grabbed his hand, “Did you fall?”

He looked directly at her with sadness in his eyes, “Yes.” He couldn’t talk about what happened to anyone but Fennec had pulled those words from him without meaning to. He swallowed a lump in his throat.

“I’ve fallen too. A long way...then you found me. Healed me, and gave me warmth I never knew existed. I knew you were an guardian angel. But I could see you were in pain,” Fennec fidgeted and let go of Hawke. She twirled, “I decided to face my pain for you. I came here to show you the sky again. And then we can look pass the pain and see the sun again.”

Hawke looked at her in awe, she had faced her fear of heights to show him this. To allow him this moment of release. “Could I be has brave as her?” he wondered. Hawke turned to look down at Kirkwall’s Lowtown. People were trickling onto the streets beginning another day. 

“Could I learn to live with this pain? Accept the world as it is? Should I?” Hawke felt his thoughts clash. Then he looked to Fennec and he saw her determination. She was far younger than him, even of she didn’t know it.

“I could try for you.” Hawke nodded. Fennec face bloomed and she hugged him excited. Hawke gave the sunrise another long look with Fennec by him. 

“Do you want to see how I fly?” he asked with a grin, holding out his hand. Instead of taking it she rapped her arms out his neck, “Yes.”

Hawke nodded and walked to the edge of the roof. Fennec tightened her grip as she stared down at the street.

“I won’t let you fall, I promise,” he said, rapping a arm around her wist.

She looked deep into his eyes and said, “I know.”

The level of trust she had in him stunned Hawke. He used that confidence to fuel his magic, swirling it around them. He lifted them off the roof and descended at a gentle manner heading towards the docks. Floating through buildings, Fennec grabbed at the cloth and flags giggling. Hawke landed them on the beach, as the sun fully rose. Fennec pulled him down to the ground, laughing and rolling in the sand. 

“That wasn’t flying, Hawke.” she him into the sand.

“Don’t have wings remember,” Hawke gave her a small smile. Suddenly she kissed him, Hawke pushed her away in shock.

He made an uneasy face, “Don’t do that.” She just giggled and gave him a mischievous grin. She danced way leaving him behind. He stood up, walking up the beach behind her and called out, “I mean it!”

 

That began their roof top runs. Fennec would show up and pull him out of the Pit and show him all the hidden walkways and passage. She taught him to still his movements and how to become part of the background. Hawke dedicated himself to what she was teaching, learning and adapting. He also began showing her how to observe people. Which ones are dangerous and who are harmless. Fennec was no less determined to master this skill.

Suddenly one day she just wasn’t there. Hawke waited and waited for Fennec to suddenly appear and to grab his arm. But as the night disappeared and morning came, Hawke was more anxious than ever. He couldn’t focus and he had already snapped at one of the kids. It was time to find Fennec.

He didn’t know much about Fennec, less considering he didn’t know her real name. But he did know she lived at the alienage with a large family of elves. So he went there first. As soon as he reached the Alienage he knew something was wrong. The Guards were their holding back a crowd of elves. He listened to the elves whispers.

“Another one...”

“Third one this month. It’s getting worse.”

“Why doesn’t someone do something?”

“She was so young. The youngest yet...”

“She would have been pretty if she had been allowed to grow up.”

A stone formed in the pit of Hawke stomach, and he pushed himself forward dreading what he would find. When he reached the front he saw it. The splatter of blood in the sand at the entrance to an alley. A small form covered by a black sheet to hide the blood. But Hawke could see a hand and that was all he needed to know who was under there. 

His mind was full of that image that he couldn’t see or hear anything else. So he jumped when a hand grabbed his shoulder. He looked up to see Aveline looking at him.

“You shouldn’t be here, son.” she said softly seeing his broken look.

Hawke stared at her blankly and said, “I know her.”

“I see,” Aveline said she gently led him away from the scene towards her partner. She knelt down in front of him and asked gently, “What’s your name son?”

“Hawke,” he gave her a confused look, he couldn’t think straight.

“So what can you tell me about her?”

“Her name is Fennec, or at least that what I called her. I don’t know her real name. But she lived with a large family.” 

“Yes, I’ve met her family. They said she roam freely. Do you know where she went?”

“She was...we were going to meet. We roam the rooftops for practice.”

Aveline raised a eyebrow, “Isn’t that dangerous?” 

“Less dangerous than the streets, and we need to learn to protect ourselves,” Hawke said in a monotone.

“So she was at high risk,” Aveline's partner supplied. “No wonder she got killed.” Aveline glared daggers at her partner.

Hawke paled so quickly at that comment that Aveline grabbed his shoulders the make sure he didn’t faint. Hawke mind was racing; murder, young elf girls, multiple killings, alley where she gets to the roof, elf, cut apart. But above it all were the words that branded his mind, “She died because she was coming to see you.”

Then his memory supplied a card, “Doesn’t that sound like what ...”

“Then we have nothing to go on again,” Aveline's partner tossed his hand up and spat on the ground. “Go ahead and write the report, Aveline. There’s nothing else to do here.”

“You can’t be serious. We’ve barely even begun investigating.” Aveline argued standing up to confront him.

“Trust me you won’t find anything, Aveline. If you want that promotion I suggest you leave this alone and keep you nose clean.” Aveline was angry now at her partner attitude.

“So you will do nothing. Children are being murdered and you will do nothing,” Hawke voice was hard and startled the two guards who had forgotten about him.

“There nothing we can do, kid.”

Hawke tempered flared, “There is plenty of thing you can do, if you have half a mind to do them. But you won’t take the effort or the risk to do justice.” Hawke expression turned dark and stormy. His eye held murderous rage that stunned the guards.

Hawke turned away, “Justice will be done.”

Aveline was the first to recover and called out, “Do you know who did this?”

Hawke glanced over his shoulder and said, “Yes and so do you.” Then he disappeared into the crowd. 

 

Hawke didn’t talk to anyone after that, but the children of the Pit heard about Fennec death all the same. The Pit was filled with sorrow and angry that day. The children sought comfort in each other but Hawke did not come near. He avoided their gazes, didn’t eat or sleep that night. 

Hawke paced a circle in a cavern writing in the dirt the all the details that he could remember about Kelder Vanard. He wrote his storm of thoughts across the dirt, all the details that he saw of the attack. He knew that there was only one safe way to reach the roof from the Alienage, so Fennec would have taken that route regularly. So did Kelder know that Fennec was going that way or was the attack one of opportunity? He circled Magistrate Kelder. And Hawke continued to pace.

His storm of emotions affected his magic, lighting snapped off him in sparks, the fire in the cooking pit would suddenly flare up and the air got unexplainably cold. The children watched Hawke in fright but he did not notice as he was absorbed in his thoughts.

It took Bear grabbing his arm to get his attention, “What?” Hawke snapped.

“There a... guards woman looking for you.” he stuttered. Hawke saw Aveline behind him studying the shack and the hiding children. 

Hawke temper flared, “You brought a guard HERE!” He roar and Bear stepped back from him. “What do you think you are doing? Do you want the Templars down here? Taking us to a nice, safe chantry. Or to the bloody Circle! Because I know if that was an option none of you would be here.”

Bear avoid his gaze, “She wouldn’t...I thought...”

“No you didn’t think!” Hawke shot back, bring his foot down with enough magical force to break cracks in the ground, shaking the room. The children cried out and Bear stumbled back ward falling to his backside. 

“That is enough!” the following slap caught Hawke off guard. Hawke looked up at Aveline in astonishment.

She glared daggers at him, bending over to shout in his face. “You don’t get talk to anyone that way. You don’t get to use magic to fright little children. I know your angry and sad but this isn’t right.”

Hawke realizing what he was doing looked at the children and saw the horror in their little faces. Ashamed Hawke looked away and turned his back on them. He began to take calming breathes drawing his wild magic into himself so he couldn’t use it by accident. Hawke went over to Bear and held out his hand to the fallen lad.

He said, “I’m sorry, Bear. I didn’t mean to frighten you. My anger was misplaced...I know your just trying to help.” Bear took the offered hand but stood up on his own because Hawke couldn’t lift him.

“I’m sorry,” Hawke said again but he couldn’t meet the older boy gaze. He was so ashamed for his out burst. This went against what his father taught him. 

Bear rapped Hawke in a hard hug, and said into his hair, “It’ll be alright, Hawke.” Hawke allowed the hug for a moment longer before he nodded and pushed the arms away. Hawke looked over his shoulder to see Aveline studying Hawke like he was a puzzle. 

Seeing his gaze, Bear said, “She one of the good ones, I promise. She can help to get that killer.”

“I know,” Hawke replied seeing Aveline look startled at his answer. “She wouldn’t be down here looking for answers if she wasn’t.”

Bear nodded, “Good, I’m going to make stew. I know you haven’t eaten in days. We have food now, so you don’t have to starve.” With that Bear walked away, leaving Hawke and Aveline alone.

“He's a good lad. Why is he down here?” Aveline asked.

“Like I’m going to tell a Guard. If he wants it known than he’ll tell it,” Hawke replied, “But aren’t you here for something more important than some orphan children?”

Aveline swung her gaze back to him, “Straight to the point then. What do you know?”

“Your standing on it,” Hawke said indicating the floor where his writing is. Aveline stepped back quickly and began examining the notes written in the dirt. 

“ Kelder Vanard, are you sure?”

“Yes, and you know it’s him as well.”

Aveline shoulders slumped, “Yes, someone matching his physical description is seen in the area of every death. But Magistrate Vanard as well as the mansion guards assure us that he was always at home.”

Hawke snorted, “Of course he would. It would be a scandal for the Magistrate of Justice to have a serial killer for a son.”

“Do you have any proof? We have some cloth scraps for the seen but hardly condemning evidence.”

“No, but I don’t need to prove to the Justices that he’s a killer.” Hawke eyes went dark and murderous.

Aveline grabbed Hawke shoulder, “No! No, don’t kill him. There will be no justice for the families of the victims. And don’t become a killer like him.”

Hawke studied Aveline earnest expression, “Very well, Aveline. We’ll do it your way.”

“And how will you do that?” Aveline questioned letting him go as she saw his expression soften. 

“The old way. By watching him and catching him in the act.” Hawke explained. “I know you have your job to do. But I’m rather skilled at being unobserved. I will follow him day and night. When he goes to strike, I will be there to stop him ” Hawke freezes a shirt drying on the line to prove his plan.

“I can’t allow you to endanger yourself. Your just a child. I can get a guard to follow him.” Aveline stated. 

“And they would just as quickly be paid off. I don’t want you to risk your career for this. I want you to be Guard Captain one day.” Hawke began writing in the dirt his plan for following Kelder. 

“Very well. But one question before I leave,” Aveline watched Hawke carefully. “How did you know my name. I don’t think I introduced myself to you.”

Hawke stiffened a moment before shrugging off the question, he had faced Aveline questions before, “That man you were with, he said your name.”

“And your remembered it?”

“Of course.” Hawke ignored her gaze as he continued writing.

Aveline narrowed her eyes at Hawke, “Your not like other children...”

“Clearly not, I’m a apostate.”

“No, you are mature beyond your years.”

“You get that way living in Darktown. They aren’t so different.” Hawke waved her away, “Now go on, your night shift right? You’d better get going before your late.”

Aveline gave him a last long look trying to understand the child before her. Hawke continued writing and Aveline left saying, “Contact me if you need help or discover anything.”

“Yes, Guards woman.”

“Stay safe.”

“I will” Hawke waved to goodbye when she existed the Pit. He decided to eat something and get some rest before he went out Hunting. 

 

Following Kelder wasn’t hard. He applied Fennec teachings and mastered them in the days following Kelder. He learned far more about he deranged man than he ever wanted to know. His father regularly beat him in ways that never showed. He would often speak to his mad demons or the demons would speak through him. But Hawke knew there were no demons just a tormented mad soul. 

Even though Hawke knew he stayed out of sight, Kelder began to search his environment. Kelder would suddenly twitch and frantically scan the streets to find none one there. He never looked up and Hawke continued to watch on. Kelder paranoia drove him to madness faster than before. He was always whispering to himself. So much that Hawke was beginning to recognize the words his lips formed.

“Can’t do it. You must. He’s watching. Do it.” Over and over Kelder chanted to himself.

Hawke was beginning to be get wary on his watch. The children would bring him food and allow him rest for a few moments. But several days of little food and less sleep was taking it’s toll on his young body. He leaned back on the wall letting his eyelids fall low. 

Suddenly he caught movement from the shadows. Kelder had left the mansion from the up room window. He crawled down and began stalking in the shadows. Hawke watch and followed from a distance, more efficiently hiding in the shadows. There was something different in Kelder, he was no longer hesitant about his movements. He moved in clear deadly intent. Hawke knew that tonight Kelder would go for a kill.

Hawke felt battle lust run through his body but he forced himself to breath steady. He couldn’t alert Kelder to his presence. He had to wait for the right moment as Kelder went in for the kill. A spike of rage hit him at that thought but he pushed it aside. He let the coldness he felt when he killed flow over him. And his eye fell steady on Kelder back.

From his perch in the shadow roof tops, Hawke saw Kelder target before he did. When Kelder saw the young serving elf carrying some clothes he stepped into a door entrance that was shadowed by a canopy. Hawke swiftly moved down the wall to a balcony over looking where Kelder would ambush his victim. Hawke breath slowed as he focused his sight on the doorway, not looking at the elf.

She approached at a steady pace. As soon as she was in reach Kelder lashed out grabbing her arm. She screamed dropping the basket, as she was forced to the ground. Kelder raised his knife growling and froze. Hawke breathed out when he realized that it was his own paralyze spell that stop Kelder and not time. The serving elf continued to scream and she roughly pushed Kelder away but couldn’t get him to release her. 

The screaming brought a pair of Guards who saw the scene and instantly tackled Kelder to the ground. Hawke released the spell and Kelder began struggling but the Guards hold on him was firm. Hawke climbed back up to the roof and continued to watch as the Guards bound and gagged Kelder. The elf girl was crying heavily and the female guard that arrive wrapped her in a cloak. Kelder was escorted to the Viscount keep and to the Guards headquarters. 

Hawke continued to follow, waiting outside the keep for Aveline. When the guards woman exited he approached her. She took one look at Hawke deeply shadowed eyes and sighed. 

“You got him,” she said with a sudden smile. “Right in the act of killing. He has no defense. He confessed to trying to kill her and he’s raging on about how the Maker stopped him. He’s going to prison. And if we can charge him with the other murders he will hang.”

Hawke looked grave, “Good. Make sure justice get him. Don’t allow him to escape his fate.” Hawke rubbed his tired eyes, and Aveline touched his shoulder. 

“Allow me to pay for a hot meal and escort you home, Hawke.” Aveline said. This wasn’t any different from how she treated him as a adult. 

So he nodded, “Can we stop at the Bazaar and pick up some food for the children. They running low trying to feed me.”

Aveline smile was genuine and warm, “Sure, Hawke.” The two of them walked off together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did warn you. I was all torn up by this chapter. Also Fennec is not in a relationship with Hawke. A pure child liking, the kiss was just a bit of fun. Or was it. You decide.  
> Any thank you for continuing to read.  
> Have a good day!


	5. City of Chains

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some magical stuff happens and Hawke has to make some tough choices.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've edited this chapter a bit because I wanted to use a scene later. So it's changed a bit. But enjoy!

Hawke was tired from the week of following Kelder, and exhaustion took over his body. Aveline had to carry him to the Pit when she found him nearly asleep against a wall waiting for her to buy a package of supplies. Bear showed her the mining cart where he had made his bed. Hawke was too tired to complain as Aveline tucked him under the layers of fur. He slipped to the darkness of sleep within a moment and was pulled into the Fade.

A dark sky unlike any night sky Hawke has ever knew stretched out around him. He knew instantly he was in the Fade. The buildings in front him were made of dark stone, lined with raw lyrium veins. Hawke recognized the shape of the buildings as Kirkwall’s Hightown and the staircase leading to it. Behind him the staircase fell into a dark void. 

Hawke sighed, he hated the Fade. Every time he entered the Fade something bad would happen. He had never found any joy in dreaming in the Fade like many other mages had. Hawke reached out with his hand to find himself as he once was. A man dressed in his Champion armor, and his favorite staff in hand. Hawke didn’t realize how much he missed being at his usual height. As a child he was always coming up short when he went to reach for things. 

“Maybe, I’ll look around. Its not like I can’t face a couple of demons.” Hawke said to himself. “Could be interesting to see the Fade’s version of Kirkwall.”

So with only one direction he could go, Hawke headed up the staircase to the Hightown market. Hawke tried to ignore the fact the stair case creaked under him. He was relieved to reach the market but found the place distorted. There where staircases suddenly rising up to nowhere, market stall embedded in the wall, and chains dangled like flags. Lyrium glowed in abundance, lighting the area in a eerie glow. 

In the middle of the market where a fenced off tree usually stood a stage had been built. A crowds of people, spirits Hawke corrected himself, had gathered around. A line of chained spirits stood on the stage, many of them with their head low and dejected. A twisted demon began calling out numbers, which some of the crowd confirmed. 

“They’re bidding. This is a slave auction,” he thought. He knew that Kirkwall had been a slave hold for the Tevinter Imperium but was this really what made Kirkwall memorable. 

None of the spirits seem to notice his presence, so he merely joined to crowd to watch the sale. Once a spirit was sold, its new owner would shake the auctioneer hands. There was a flash of light like lighting around the hand shake. After the third time Hawke realized that they are exchanging magical essences. It was more powerful exchanging system, as it made those who bought anything slightly weaker. 

A sudden shout caught Hawke’s attention and Hawke saw a boy being dragged in chains between two shades. The boy as solid in a way the spirit didn't and that marked him as a mage. Then Hawke recognized the younger boy as Feynriel, the elf-blooded apostate he had helped before. His screams disrupted the auction, as the crowd turn to watch him instead of the auctioneer. The irritated auctioneer came down from the stage and commanded the shades to hold the lad. Feynriel twisted in the shade grip, struggling in vein against his captors.

He shouted, “Let go!” 

The auctioneer slapped him across the face, hard enough to snap his head back, “Silence, slave. Your cries mean nothing.” The blond hair boy was stunned, eyes half closed at near unconscious. He went limp in the shades grip. Hawke snarled in his soul, he wasn’t going to watch his any longer. He began to move through the crowd towards the captured boy. 

Clearly satisfied the auctioneer waved at the shade, “Move along. Take him to the Overseer to be broken.” 

Hawke stepped up to them, “I think not. You won’t be going anywhere with the boy.”

The auctioneer sneered at him, “Oh, and your going to take him are you.” He waved at the shade who let go of Feynriel and charged at Hawke. Hawke blasting the shades with a wall of ice and then chopped them down with two shift slashes with his fire laced staff. Both shade dissolved with a wail. The auctioneer holding Feynriel’s chains keeping him tight against him disfigured body like a shield. 

“Your willing to go against the Overseer to have him?” the auctioneer stared at him from behind the limp boy.

They were at a stalemate and both of them knew it. Hawke steadied his grip on his staff and stated, “Yes. I want him.” 

This statement seem to make the auctioneer gleeful relaxing his hold, “Very well. You can have him. If you can prove your strong enough.” The auctioneer demon held out his hand.

Knowing what the auctioneer wanted, Hawke stepped up with his staff still in hand and shook the demon hand. Hawke felt the instant draining of his magic, and struggled to recharge it fast enough. But then Hawke realize that this was a test of wills. Hawke focused his will grinding his teeth, and stopped the flow of magic between them. Auctioneer gave him a stunned look as Hawke began drawing his magic back into himself. 

The demon began to panic as his own magical essence was being drained struggling against Hawke’s hold. The demon essence felt slimy to Hawke so he only took enough to leave the demon weak. It was Hawke who broke the hand shake, who let the demon drop to the ground.

“You’re...you’re human.” the auctioneer gasped, looking up at Hawke in horror. “The Overseer won’t stand for this!”

“I don’t care.” Hawke dismissed the threat. Hawke swiftly grabbed the chain from the auctioneer, and felt a tingle in his head. But he didn’t have reflect on the feeling as he picked up Feynriel by his shoulder and began marching him away. The streets twisted in directions unfamiliar to Hawke so he went on blindly just needing to get away from a pursers that might follow. 

Feynriel began struggling in his grip coming back to awareness, so Hawke tried to calm him. “Hush. I’m going to get you out of here safely, lad.”

“Who are you?” Feynriel tried to turn his head to look at Hawke.

“Hawke, I’m a mage like you,” he replied distracted as he watched for demon. “Here.” Hawke pulled them into a alley behind a sideways pile of boxes. After a moment, Hawke was sure no one was after them, turned to Feynriel.

The half-elf was younger than he remembered, still having his baby fat on his face. But the lad was tall for his age, top of his head reaching Hawke’s chin. He was also thin, which gave him a stork like appearance. Feynriel stared at him with uncertainly as Hawke eyed him.

“I don’t know how you got yourself here. But I going to get you back into your body. What’s your name?” Hawke asked so he didn’t reveal he already knew him.

“Hmm, Feynriel. Where are we?” 

Hawke gave him gave him a startled look, “The Fade. Hasn’t anyone taught you about it?”

“A bit. My mother is teaching me, but she’s not a mage and never been here before so she can’t tell me what it’s like. And the chantry doesn’t say anything about what the Fade is actually like.”

Hawke groaned, “So this is your first experience of the Fade. No wonder you got captured. You’re defenseless.” Feynriel twitched his hands back to the chain around his neck. Hawke remember he was still holding the chain dropped it like it burned him. 

“Let me get rid of that.” Hawke stepped up the younger mage making him twitch. Feynriel blushed at the reaction and Hawke chose to ignore it. He grabbed the chains collar and with a small amount of fire magic burned it away. The chain fell to the ground and dissipated. 

“Here, take this,” Hawke held out his staff to Feynriel. “Use this to defend yourself if need be.” Feynriel took the staff eyes widening at the power it held and it glowed. Since Hawke had give it to him, Hawke knew Feynriel would be able to use it in the Fade. In reality the young mage wouldn’t have had the ability to use his staff. 

“What about you?”

“I’ll be fine. I can easily cast without a staff.”

“But I thought all mages needed staffs to wave magic spells.” Feynriel gave his a confused look.

“You really need to work on your education.” Hawke shook his head sadly. “All mages can use magic without staffs. A staff is merely a tool used for focus and enchantments. It also makes a good weapon to hit things with.” Feynriel gave him a small smile at his joke. 

“So do you use it like this?” he asked setting off a spirit bolt into the sky.

Hawke gritted his teeth in frustration saying, “Yes.” The sudden instinct of danger looming hit him. His inborn talent of being able to feel those who were dangerous to him had been enhanced over the years and now he had a long range. 

He grabbed Feynriel startling him, “I need you to picture yourself and your bed.”

“But...”

“Just do it!” He felt the dark looming presence growing closer.

“I live in the Alienage with my mother. I’m in single hard wooden bed with a thin mattress but warm blankets.” Feynriel had closed his eyes as he describe the scene. 

“Good. Now wake up!” Hawke snapped his fingers and Feynriel faded away. Hawke felt a cold chill and eyes watching him. But he snapped his own fingers again and felt the pull of his spirit to his body. He sat up throwing the fur off himself. He rubbed his face, trying to leave the feeling of being watched behind. 

“That wasn’t restful at all.” Hawke said to himself, and got up.

 

For the rest of the day, Hawke found himself nodding off at moments. He went to Athenril to tell her what had happened to him and why hadn’t been answering her summons. After the seventh yawn she sent him back to the Pit to get some proper rest. Hawke did as she told him climbing into bed. 

As soon as he began to fall into a deeper sleep he felt the pull of the Fade and woke himself up. The cycle continued the rest of the day. Hawke rapped furs about him and sat but the fire in the cooking pit. He watched it lazily hoping it would keep him wake, but his child body needed sleep. And soon Hawke drifted back into the Fade.

Upon seeing a wall with sideways boards Hawke, groaned, “Not again.” The Fade had materialized as a single empty room. He used his magic to feel out the room. There was no doorways leading anywhere.

“Hawke,” a voice called and he turn to find Feynriel in the room with him. 

“Are we in the Fade, again?” The young mage looked at him expectantly. 

“Yes.” Hawke walked the edge of the room. “At least its somewhere safe this time.”

He turned back to Feynriel, “We should probably make use of this time.”

“Huh?”

“Training! You clearly have only the basic understanding of your abilities. You need to learn more so you are able to defend yourself.”

“Couldn’t you protect me?”

Hawke gave him a hard stare, “I’m not always going to be around. Not to mention if something does happen I want to be able to know you’ll be safe with my back turned.”

“Oh,” he glanced down, with a shy expression.

“Relax, I’m not going to jump down your throat.” Hawke said and sat down against the wall, placing his staff across his lap. “Let me begin with what the Fade is and how to identify a spirit or a demon.”

After a couple of minutes of lecture, Hawke began to quiz Feynriel on what he just said. This surprised him, like he was expecting to just be listening. But soon Feynriel was asking his own questions. Then Hawke got up and showed him how to target and release his magic with deadly intent. Then the lecture continued.

“And that is how to release yourself from the Fade,” Hawke finished his explanation. “This doesn’t always work. Sometimes a demon can forcefully trap you in the fade. Usually the only way to release yourself is to defeat the demon. But as you train your will, you will discover demon have less ability to do this. Now what is it you need?”

“A strong will.” Feynriel answered in clear tones of boredom.

“Very well. It’s time to leave.”Hawke crossed his arms. “Apply what I just taught you to wake up. I’ll stay to make sure you did it.”

Feynriel looked at him sheepishly and asked, “Will I see you again?”

“No.” at least not in this form anyway, he mentally added. “Such encounters in the Fade are rare. I don’t expect it to happen again.”

“Oh,” Feynriel looked down.

“Off you go.” Hawke made a shooing motion.

“Thank you, Hawke,” Feynriel watched him, then hesitantly waved. “Bye.” And faded back to Thedas. 

 

But Hawke was wrong, for the next night to Feynriel glee the two of them appeared in the room again. Feynriel got Hawke to continue teaching him. And to do so continued into the next night and the next. On the fifth night, Hawke was concerned now and began to search the room with his magic now. He sat cross legged when Feynriel arrive a moment later, appearing in the center of the room.

“Hawke, what are you doing?” Feynriel asked when Hawke didn’t greet him.

“Something I wrong. This shouldn’t be happing. The Fade is too big for the two of us to appear in the same region twice let alone five times. Neither of us should be in the Fade so often. Unless....” Hawke trailed off as his thought began to spin. 

“Unless?” Feynriel asked hesitantly.

“Something is pulling us here together.” Hawke replied still deep in his thought. “But how? Neither of us have come into contact this something that would have from a bond to the Fade.”

“Bond?”

“To go into the Fade intentionally, a mage work with several other mages and a lot of lyrium. But some magical objects the ability to move you into the Fade. These are very rare and I’ve only come cross one in my experiences.” Hawke ranted thoughtlessly, “Normally people break the veil accidentally, usually when they dream.”

“Like when we first met,”

Then a thought hit Hawke when he said that. He looked down at his hand and extended his magical senses to it. There was a feeling of something there, and when Hawke followed it lead him to Feynriel. It was the chain that Hawke thought he had broken. A dark thought rose to the surface of his mind. Feynriel had done whatever Hawk asked of him without question. 

“Feynriel, I’m going to do a experiment. Can you do the opposite of whatever I say?” Hawke had to think of wording his request as a question. Curious, Feynriel nodded. 

“Lift your right hand.” Feynriel lifted his right hand.

“Your other right,” Feynriel still lifter his right hand. He looked at his hand as of it had grown wings.

“Now stand on one foot,” Again Feynriel did what was asked. 

“Hawke?” Feynriel sounded uneasy as he out his foot down. “What going on?”

Hawke ran his fingers through his hair, “That chain you were wearing when I saved you. Apparently the chain was more than a physical binding but a mental link. When I grabbed it created a bond between you and I, establishing me as your...master. It compels you to do whatever I ask.” Hawke felt sick and angry at himself for not realizing it sooner.

Feynriel gaped and then swallowed, “But there’s a way to get rid of it?”

“Oh?” Hawke blinked focusing. “Probably, I could break it but you have weaken it."

“What? How do I that?”

“With your will. Haven’t you been listening to what I’ve been teaching you. The Fade is all about willpower. It controls everything and if you have it you can control the Fade. You have to want the bond gone as well.””

“Ok, lets try it.”

Hawke focused on the link waiting for it to weaver when Feynriel weaken it. But that moment didn’t come. Hawke stared hard at Feynriel who had his eyes closed in concentration.

“It’s not working.” Feynriel said breaking the moment. 

“You don’t want it broken enough,” Hawke said darkly. He stood up to loom over Feynriel who wouldn’t meet his eye. This couldn’t be allowed anymore.

“This link is dangerous of the both of us. If we continue to come to the Fade we will be found by a demon who is powerful enough to bind us then we will never be able to leave.” Hawke voice was hard. “Try again.” Again Feynriel made the appearance of trying to break the bond. Hawke expression was so dark when Feynriel opened his eye that he had to step aback.

“Feynriel punch yourself.”

“What...?” before Feynriel could finish his question as his own fist knocked him in the chin.

“What are you doing, Hawke?” Feynriel asked in tones of disbelief. 

But Hawke didn’t answer merely saying in cold tone, “Again.” 

Feynriel fist hit his cheek, as he shouted “Stop it!”

“Harder.” 

This time Feynriel fell to the ground from the force of the blow. He looked at Hawke in shock. Hawke expression could be made of steel, and it frighten the young mage.

“This is what a bond like this could do. Now pinch yourself hard.” 

Feynriel cried out in pain, and said with tears in his eyes, “I just wanted to continue to be with you, Hawke.”

Hawke stared him down, and in firm tones, “I don’t want a bond with you.”

 

That did it, Feynriel turned away from Hawke. And Hawke felt the bond weaken, and in a moment he broke it. A faint line was left, but Hawke never it had no power and would soon fade.

“It’s done, Hawke said. Feynriel gave a shuttering sob, which broke Hawke. Hawke reached out to comfort him but Feynriel flung his hand away.

“It had to be done...”

“But why? Why do that?” Feynriel snapped standing up to confront Hawke.

“You need to want is broken. You need to want me gone.” Hawke said sadly.

“Good. Now I do. Are you happy now!” Feynriel shouted into Hawke face. He stepped back and turn his back to Hawke. But he could reply Feynriel began to fade.

“Good bye and good ridden.” Feynriel said as he vanished from the Fade.

“I’m sorry.” Hawke said to the empty room.

 

The next several days, Hawke began to wonder if anything good was ever going to happen to him. Or was fate forever going to draw the bad cards for him. He debate with himself if he wanted to confront Feynriel but how was he ever going to explain his appearance. So he dismissed the idea, and forced himself to do his work.

A week later Hawke went to Kelder’s trial for the murder attempt on the serving elf. He stood at the back of Justice Hall and glared all his displeasure at Kelder back. But some of it the was also directed at himself. He played the scenario with Feynriel over and over in his head, thinking of how he could have done it differently. There weren’t any better solutions. It left his head in the clouds the rest of the day. 

Hawke was in a conversion about herb prices when he felt the bond like a poke to the back of his head. Hawke turned to find no one. Then it happened again, and Hawke was concerned. The bond should have faded away by now. But there it was in the back of his mind, getting stronger as he focused on it.

“Hawke!” was Feynriel desperate cry echoing in Hawke’s mind. He dropped what he was carrying and ran towards the Alienage. He headed directly to Feynriel house, slamming open the door shouting his name. Feynriel’s mother asked him what he was doing here but Hawke ignored her, heading for Feynriel form on the bed. 

Feynriel was twisting in his bed, his expression one of pain. Knowing what he need to do, Hawke drank all of his lyrium potions until he was humming with power. Hawke sat on the side of the bed and placed his forehead against Feynriel’s. Then he closed his eyes, allowing himself to fall asleep. He followed the bond into the Fade and to Feynriel. 

Hawke found himself in a smokey courtyard, surrounded by flames. Chains lined the walls, rattling in the wind. Column of stone were circled with black chains that burned with fire. In the center of the courtyard sat Feynriel covered in chains tying him to the pedestal he kneel on. 

“Feynriel!” Hawke cried out and headed to Feynriel but was blocked by a wall of flame that materialized in front of him. Sharply aware of his surroundings Hawke heard the rattling of chains, and it was getting closer

Walking into the courtyard was a large Rage Demon, covered in chains, that rapped around it’s body and daggled off its arms dragging on the ground. When it saw Hawke, it roared a challenge whipping it’s chains against the ground. Hawke wasn’t intimidated and faced off against the demon readying his staff in his hands. The only way for Hawke to escape was passed the Rage Demon, and Hawke felt the magic swelling up inside him. He always felt stronger in the Fade.

Hawke roared a battle cry back at the demon, and charged it, throwing a fire ball in its face. The Rage Demon lashed out with its chains using them like whips, forcing Hawke to dodge. Hawke broke the ground beneath the demon causing it to stumble. In it moment of weakness Hawke rained fire down upon the demon, and as the smoke cleared he found the demon hadn’t been destroyed. 

Hawke clenched his teeth in a snarl he cast another bolt at the demon hitting it’s arm. Hawke’s attacks injured the demon but only barely. Ignoring the attacks the Demon drew the chains over its head and slashed down at Hawke. But the agile mage dodged the whip by running under and behind the rage demon. The demon having lost sight of Hawke turned to lash behind itself with the chain whip. Hawke leaped over the chain onto the demons back stabbing it with his bladed staff. The demon cried in pain throwing its arms over its head but couldn’t reach Hawke. Hawke grabbed the spikes on the demon back to holding tight as the demon thrashed. When he reached the base of the demon neck Hawke stabbed his blade into the spine of the demon.

The demon thrashed harder nearly throwing Hawke off. But Hawke held onto his staff and directed a large lighting spell through his staff directly into the demon. The Rage Demon’s body jerked wildly, it’s dying wails echoed in Hawke’s ears and he felt the demon falling back on him. Hawke made a desperate leap off the demon and hit the ground just left of the body of the demon. The Rage Demon in chains disappeared in a mist leaving only Hawke’s staff.

Hawke picked up his staff and turned back the throne with Feynriel that was still blocked off by a wall of flames. Hawke stared at the flames and allow his body to change. Flames began burning across his body in his version of the burning man. His father had shown him how to do change his body shape in the Fade as a young man. It was one of the last things he had taught Hawke. Until now Hawke hadn’t been in a situation where he needed that ability but he found he could easily do it. He walked through the flames and up the steps to Feynriel.

The younger mage lifted his head weakly, clearly drained by the Overseer. But he manage to croak out, “Hawke.” He tried to reach for him despite Hawke’s burning flames but his arm fell chains rattling. Hawke grabbed the chains which melted under his fire grip, released Feynriel.

Hawke release the shift and quickly collected Feynriel in his arms, “It’s alright.”

“Hawke...I just wanted to find you.” He said slowly. “I ... needed to apologize. I know why..why you did it.”

“Hush, there is nothing to apologize for.” Hawke said softly. “Lets just get out of here. I’ll be there when you wake up. We can talk then.”

Feynriel eyes lite up, “I can see the real you.”

“I’m currently sitting on your bed. Getting a crick in my neck as we speak.” Hawke replied, and bent his head to touch Feynriel forehead with his own. “Now close your eyes and I will be there when you open them.”

Feynriel closed his eyes as he was told as Hawke did the same. He pulled himself back to his body trailing Feynriel behind. Green eyes met his own blue ones when he opened his eyes. Feynriel found himself staring at a boy younger than himself. Hawke straightened up stretching his neck and back, unsure of how Feynriel was going to react. Feynriel stared up at Hawke appearance. But the eyes were unmistakably those of the mage he knew as Hawke.

“Hawke?” he asked hesitantly.

“Yes, its me.” Hawke replied. Despite the voice being younger, Feynriel knew that tone, and smiled which Hawke returned.

When Feynriel sat up in his bed ,his mother gasped and grabbed him covering him in kisses. Embarrassed, Feynriel assured his mother he was alright and that Hawke had helped him. This turned his mothers affection on to Hawke, who she hugged fiercely. Feynriel almost laughed at the uncertainly on Hawke face as he was clung to. Suddenly the two boys stomachs grumble in unison. His mother let Hawke go so she could prepare the two of them a meal. 

With his pride still intact, Hawke straighten his cloak, and found Feynriel still staring at him. “It’s not going to change you know. This is really me.”

“But it’s so strange to find you so much ...shorter,” Feynriel decided. 

Hawke wave a hand at him, “And you still remind me of a stork.”

“Stork?!” Feynriel said with mock fury.

“That’s right, Stork,” the two of them shared a laugh that mended all fences.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Longer than the others but there was a lot to get through. I was thinking of making it two parts. But I think this version works.  
> Thanks for reading!


	6. The Golden Lotus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An alternative meeting with Varric, full of assassins, magic, and a curse.

Hawke paced the cavern of the Pit, as restless as a caged animal. Since the imprisonment of Kelder, Hawke had found himself a loose ends. He had hit a dead end with his rune calculations. The Altus mage, Jehanel Esnault, had written several of his runes in Ancient Tevene and while Hawke could remember them he didn’t know their meaning. He had no means of researching them so he had been avoiding them. But now at every corner the runes ran back to those words. Hawke tried to cross reference them to the modern Tevene that he knew but none of them made sense. He was afraid he didn’t remember the runes correctly. But his memory had been always been reliable. Hawke thumped his head against the wall were the words were written trying to gain insight. 

“Hawke! Stop trying to bash your brains in. Despite what you think about them at the moment they are useful!” Feynriel called to him from the cooking pit. “Come eat if you have nothing better to do.” Feynriel came to the Pit regularly for Hawke’s lessons. 

Hawke grumbled and stepped away from his runes, snuffing out the torch above him with a twist of his magic. After learning that Hawke was a younger mage then himself Feynriel had gotten bolder in his dealings with Hawke. Feynriel discovered that Hawke would listen to him if he argued with the younger boy. He made it his mission to ensure the mage would eat and sleep at regular intervals and not just when his body was at the breaking point. 

Hawke sat down and Feynriel handed him a bowl of stew. When the children discovered what a good cook he was they placed him on cooking detail. He was slowly being integrated into the group. But the other children didn’t trust his magical abilities like they trusted Hawke. 

Hawke ate without tasting it, thoughts wandering. He was thinking of ways to break into the Circle of Magi to get at their library. When he realized Feynriel had been talking to him. 

“Hmm?” Hawke mumbled between mouthful, blinking blankly at the lean boy.

Sighing, Feynriel tried again, “You know you are going about this all wrong.”

Hawke narrowed his eyes, swallowing his food, he asked, “How so?”

“Well, I may not know anything about how magical theory. My mother says that when I’m faced with a problem that I can’t solve trying to force it only leads to headaches.” Feynriel watch pleased as Hawke smiled at his joke. “She found that not thinking about it leads to sudden insights.”

“Can’t.” Hawke replied honestly. “It’s starting to invade my dreams.” He was having nightmares about a twisting rift tearing his body apart when he got the rune wrong. 

“Then you need a distraction. Why don’t you go play with one of the kids?” Feynriel suggested. Feynriel noticed that the children treated Hawke like he was a prophet, almost worshiping him. He didn’t think Hawke liked it, but he said nothing about it. Feynriel wanted that to change, he wanted Hawke happy.

Hawke made a face of dislike, stating, “Not going to happen. Not a child, Stork.”

Feynriel shrugged, he knew Hawke wasn’t a normal boy. The other children of the Pit had some levels of maturity beyond their years, but they were still children to his eyes. Hawke was something entirely different. He didn’t fit into any category Feynriel could think of and he still had the image of the older Hawke in his mind. So he merely began think of him as a singular being, one he called Hawke. 

So he suggested, “They why don’t you go see if the smugglers have some work you could do?”

Hawke considered that, “Athenril hadn’t contact me this past week. I wonder if something was going on?” 

Feynriel despaired at the sight of Hawke’s eyes lighting up at the prospect of danger. When Feynriel learned about Hawke servitude to a smuggler group, he was uncertain of how to help him. Then he found that Hawke didn’t need his help. Hawke was as powerful and as capable as he was in the Fade despite his size. Feynriel owed Hawke more than the little mage knew, and he wanted to be useful to him. 

But at every turn Hawke stood independent of him, and watched over him instead. So all Feynriel could do was watch as Hawke bounded off into the tunnels of Darktown like he was going off to play. He sighed and promised himself that one day he’d be strong enough to stand by Hawke side as equals. 

 

“Hawke? What are you doing here? Athenril still away at that meeting in Starkhaven.” said Calder, Athenril second in command as he lower his writing board. “Don’t put that there, Memerin. That goes with the Dog Lord shipment, third pile to the right.”

The grey bearded dwarf picked up the box again and tottered down the passage. The smugglers tunnels were bugling with goods being readied for shipment on the tide. Dwarves, elves and men alike flowed through the clutter. Calder directed the flow with the wave of his quill and a sharp shout. Compared to the rest of the group, Calder didn’t look a smuggler. He dressed like a high nobles scribe. From what Hawke had heard he had once been the Viscounts seneschal before Bran. Framed for a scandal that broke his career, Calder is determined to get back at the revenue. 

“Is there anything I can do?” Hawke asked. 

“No, sorry Hawke. Memerin, don’t move that yet. Follow the system, the system.” Calder called in a pretentious tone that everyone had gotten use to. Calder didn’t mean to sound that way it just the way he is. 

“Anything? A delivery? Something?” Hawke pleaded with his eyes. He discovered his younger puppy face got him things faster than before.

Calder glanced at him and swallowed, “Very well, if it will get you out of the flow. Memerin grab the red lined package from the Jar room. The Jar room, red box! Give it to Hawke.” Calder heard a crash, cursing and swearing at the men went to deal with the fresh disaster. 

Memerin appear holding a red ribbon box. He hand it to Hawke who thanked him. Memerin bobbed his head, pleased and went back to work. Hawke read the address of the box and smiled broadly. The House of Tethras. Hawke left without another word, carrying the box in his arms. 

After the shipment was away on the tide, Calder was going through the goods that were still left ensuring nothing got misplaced or stolen in the move. When he reached the Jar room he saw what was missing instantly and shouted out the door. A elf poke his head in saying he saw Memerin carrying the missing box. Calder face paled at realization and he went to find Memerin.

“Maker preserve me. Athenril going to have my hide when she finds out.”

 

Carrying a box up through Darktown, Lowtown and into Hightown was no easy feat. The box was heavier than it’s size suggested. Hawke legs were screaming at him as he made the last flight of step up into the estates district. So he took a break to drink from the fancy fountain in that decorated the noble streets. He felt excited at the prospect of seeing Varric again. He didn’t know how his old friend was going to react to him. 

“Fool, your not on a social visit. You’re here to deliver a package, nothing more. You probably won’t even get to see Varric.” Hawke shoulders slumped at that thought. He missed his old companions wit and banter. Even when they had parted Varric made a point of sending him letters no matter how far they had to go. 

Hawke straighten his shoulders, and gathered the box in his arms and marched to the door of the Tethras Estate. A short bearded dwarf answered the door, looking at him with distaste. Hawke knew he looked out of place among the fancy stone work and delicately cut flora, and he wondered if he should have worn his champion armor. But he dismissed that thought. It would draw too much attention and he was just making a delivery

“Delivery for the Tethras House.” Hawke stated holding up the box. 

A flash of recognition lite up the servant dwarf eyes, “Come this way.” To Hawke surprise the dwarf lead him directly into the main hall. He stopped Hawke directly in the center of the hall with a gesture of his hand.

“Master Tethras shall be down to retrieve the package directly.” the dwarf declared and with that statement the servant dwarf spun about and disappeared into another room. 

The estate was in better condition than when Hawke last seen it. Paintings lined the walls and there were a couple of vases on pedestals. A large chandelier lit the main hall with bright light of enchanted stones. The floor was newly polished reflecting the glow. 

“That chandelier wasn’t here before. I wonder what happened to it?” Hawke thought staring at it. He was so fixed on the wondrous chandelier that he didn’t notice the appearance of Varric Tethras.

“Well, well. What do we have here?” Hawke jumped at the sound of Varric voice. Varric was lean on the staircase railing gazing down at Hawke with a amused expression. 

"Delivery for the House of Tethras," Hawke stared up at the beardless dwarf with a smile.

“Oh, one of Bartrand’s expenses.” Varric shook his head sadly. He came down the stairs, mindful of Hawke’s gaze. The delivery boy wore a worn grey cloak over his shoulders that hid his figure and that was stain in mud.

“At least most of it was mud. Some of it is blood the discoloring is different.” Varric thought, and he wondered why the boy choose to wear it in the warm Kirkwall weather. He didn’t look like he could have been older than eight years old with a dark mop of hair and dark blue eye lined with silver. The child didn’t look awe struck or unsure by Varric presence. He seemed almost happy to see him. He wasn’t sure what to make of that knowing gaze that was so strange on a child. 

Varric approach was watchful but Hawke didn’t move, his arms full with the box and standing in a relaxed stance. Hawke was surprised to find himself looking eye to eye with Varric. Hawke was always looking down at Varric, and being the same height Hawke discovered Varric looked more imposing than friendly. 

“Mine as well get a look at what I’m going to paying for anyway.” Varric reached for the box and pulled on the ribbon which easily unwound and fell to the floor. Varric was watching Hawke reaction as he lifted the lid. Seeing nothing threatening Varric peered inside, to see the top of a blue painted vase. Curious Hawke gazed down as well.

The sound of snapping rope and ratting crystal caught both their attention. Hawke and Varric looked straight up to find the chandelier falling on them . Varric acted first grabbing Hawke shoulders and pushing him backwards out of the path of the chandelier. But they weren’t going to make it.

Hawke raised a single hand formed his Barrier around the two of them. The chandelier hit his Barrier at a glancing blow but with enough force to make him grind his teeth to maintain his spell. The chandelier smashed to the ground shattering fragments of crystal everywhere. Hawke released his barrier falling to his knees, placing the box down and shook his head, dots filling his eye sight. Then Hawke turn his gaze back to Varric, to find Bianca directed at him.

“So what’s your plan now assassin?” Varric voice called out, every line in Varric body was threatening. Hawke had never been on this side of Varric crossbow before.

“What?” Hawke looked up with a confused and hurt expression that nearly made Varric lower Bianca. Before Hawke could say anything else Varric pulled the trigger.

The bolt shot past Hawke and he thought for a split second, “It missed. Varric never misses.” A sudden shout of pain from behind him, drew his attention. Hawke turned to find a young man with red hair pinned to the wall by his shoulder. 

The assassin snarled and raised his dagger cutting the bolt from his shoulder. He took a single threatening step towards them and found himself frozen to the wall. Hawke shuttered at using his magic before he had a chance to recover. He felt a hand on his shoulder and found Varric looking at him concerned. 

“Hey you alright, kid?” Varric asked still bit shock at finding himself totally unharmed. 

Hawke took deep filling breaths, “Just need a moment...” 

Varric left Hawke to recover and went over to the assassin still pinned to the wall. He took in the assassin frozen appearance and punched the man in the face, nearly having to jump to do so. The assassin head hit the wall and he hissed in pain. 

“Normally I follow the set procedure of asking who sent you. But I need not waste my breath, Crow.” Varric said spinning the assassin dagger with the crow emblem on it. “Rather unprofessional of you. First contract? Why were you sent to kill me?”

“I’m not going to say anything.” the young man snapped trying to look defiant as his teeth chattered from the cold. 

“Of course he won’t talk. If he a Crow that is.” Hawke appeared next Varric carrying the package. “But I suspect it has to do with what’s in this box.”

“Why do you say that?” Varric asked.

“Because a poor delivery boy doesn’t get invited into a fancy house to deliver a package. Then has a chandelier dropped on them as they were opening that very package.”

“Hmm, well lets get a look at it.” Varric said and reached into the box and pulled out the vase. The vase itself was high shouldered about fourteen inches tall. It was made of porcelain, painted beautifully on it was a golden flower on a pond. It certainly looked valuable to Hawke.

“Ha, your doomed now! Anyone who touches the Golden Lotus is cursed and will die.” the assassin began a hiccuping laughed. His demented laughter was cut short by a dagger to his forehead. Hawke snapped around bring up his Barrier in time to deflect two throwing daggers. Varric placed the vase on a side table and snapped out Bianca.

“Should have known there was more than one assassin when you said you were lead here by a servant.” Varric comment, scanning for enemies. 

“I forgot about him as well.” Hawke replied maintaining the Barrier. But no attack came and the pair stood vigilant. Hawke was forced to release his spell before it drained him. 

“This is the veteran assassin. He waiting for the right moment to strike. Let make a strategic retreat.” Varric directed Hawke towards the side door of the hall.The hall was empty but it was too exposed so Hawke headed to the first door he saw. Hawke checked the room for enemies before stepping in with Varric following backwards. He shut the door and bolted it. Now the two them of were locked in a storage room.

“Well, I don’t think that vase is cursed.” Varric stated with a thoughtful expression. 

“It’s not magical, and there no rune magic laid on it that I can see” Hawke replied. “But a vase hardly has to be cursed when assassins come after you for touching it.”

Varric snapped his fingers, “That it! I knew I heard about the Golden Lotus before.”

“Well are you going to tell me or am I going to have to guess?”

“The original maker of the vase was a selfish man. He cherish the vase and couldn’t stand it even begin touch. So to keep anyone from ever touching it he cursed it. Promising that of anyone touched the vase would die. And die they did. For a hundred years every owner the vase have died. ” Varric was in full storytelling mode, and Hawke smiled. 

Suddenly Varric focused his gaze on Hawke, saying, “Your taking this situation rather calmly.”

“I’m an apostate and I work for smugglers. People trying to kill me isn’t new.” Hawke shrugged. 

“You’re Hawke, the child apostate that works for Athenril?” Varric eyes widened as he leaned on his crossbow, but kept the bolt cocked. 

“Ah, you’ve heard the rumor.” Hawke sighed. This wasn’t the way he thought he was going to meet Varric again. But then again nothing in his life can be normal. 

“Well I must admit that the tale of a boy taking out a pirate captain was rather thrilling. I see you match your reputation.” Varric chuckled. “So your really just here to make a delivery?”

“It was a busy day, and I was just picking up the slack. Didn’t know that amounted to an assassination attempted.” Hawke replied with a shrug. “Do you smell oil?”

At that moment the door to the room burst into flames, smoke filling the room. Hawke raised his Barrier on instinct, but he knew it wouldn't hold forever. The fire was growing eating away at the wooden shelves trickling along the wall. Hawke dropped the Barrier and created a frozen wall, but the heat was already melting it’s edges.

“Is there another way out?” Hawke asked desperately. 

“This is a storage room. It’s meant to be able to lock things in.” Varric replied but wasn’t thrilled about his answer. 

Hawke felt another magical source distracting him from replying. He glanced to his right on a one of the shelves was an enchanted stone embedded on a broken staff head. He picked up the broken staff head. The enchanted stone was reaching to the fire presence. Hawke drew on the magic with in the stone and found a extremely strong fire enchantment. His magic easily flowed through the broken staff. Hawke had forgotten how much direction and focus a staff gave him. Along with the enchantment Hawke felt his magic grow. 

The ice wall shattered and the heat of the fire hit them and smoke fill the room. Setting his posture, Hawke began to move the broken staff in slow motions. His magic reached out and touched the fire, merging with the energies of the flame. The flames were drawn off the wall towards Hawke. Hawke began to chant slowly, voice raising into a high tenor. The fire danced with Hawke motions, twisting in the air as Hawke condensed it to into a flame around the stone. 

When the fire was nothing but a single blue flame, Hawke release the flame a the door. It shattered the burnt door. There was a terrified scream from the other side. Hawke blinked the moment lost, and sagged into Varric arms. Varric stared at the young boy in his arms with amazement, jaw open. Hawke pushed himself out of Varric arms taking deep breaths. 

“What was that?” Varric asked when he remember he had a mouth that he could use.

“A simple fire manipulation spell,” Hawke replied, swiping the sweat out of his eyes. “It’s called the Witches Dance, and it allows you to manipulate the flame of a fire. Every mage apprentice first learns this and as quickly forgets it. I just enhanced it to allow me to control this fire.” 

“Simple, that was simple.” Varric gapped at him.

“Simple but not easy to use on a fire this size. You need a lot of will and magic to do what I just did. If I didn’t have this I think the fire would have consumed me.” Hawke held up the broken staff. “I’m going to keep it. Can I?”

Varric barked a laugh, “I doubt Bartrand going to even noticed it missing with all this.” Hawke beamed at him and shoved the broken staff into his belt. Varric carefully stepped over the burnt wreckage of the door to glance about the hall. They found the charred remains of a dwarf.

Hawke scratched his head, “Over kill. I didn’t think they would be standing directly outside the door. I thought they would have at least defend themselves against attack. They must have know I was a mage.” He sighed dramatically. 

Varric eyed him, “Remind me never to get on your bad side, Hawke.”

“Sure. But now we have nothing to go on. And we still have assassins after us.” Hawke shoulders slumped.

“Oh, I don’t about that. I know who’s after us now and why. I think I can use that to my advantage. I just need to reach my contacts.” Varric stated scratching his chin. Hawke looked at Varric hopefully.

Varric winked, “Give me a couple of days. Can you lay low until I contact you?”

Hawke nodded, “I doubt even the Crows can find my hideout. Send your message to Athenril base, I can get it there.” 

“Does this happen to you often?” Varric asked with his eyebrows raised.

“I didn’t have anything plans today. So apparent I was due for some danger.” 

Varric shook his head, “Kid, you have some weird logic.”

Hawke frowned, “Don’t call me kid. My name is Hawke. And no cute nicknames. I have a reputation I have to maintain.” 

This made Varric laugh, “Sure, Hawke, sure.”

“Varric!” Bartrand’s angry shout echoed through the halls. 

“And that our cue to get out of here. Come on, kid.” Varric made a dash to the entrance with Hawke before anyone saw them. 

 

With another adventure under his belt, Hawke decided to forget about the runes and focus on his control of his magic. He delighted the children with his manipulation of fire into different shapes. Along with Feynriel, Hawke began to tell fire side stories. 

Athenril returned two weeks later and called Hawke to the base. She crossed her arms asking him, “ Care to explain why a Crows armor was found in front of the base with a letter addressed to you on it?” She handed him a sealed letter, and broke the seal.

Hawke recognized the writing as Varric and quickly read the letter, “Hawke. You be surprised to hear that dealing with the Crows was relatively easy. At least it is when you send the Golden Lotus to the leader of the Crows. He had the contract retracted so this fellow assassin don’t get any ideas to take his throne. I found the crow agent placed in Bartrand house. Here’s his armor, think it might fit. I had it adjusted to your size. You need good armor with all the trouble you get into. Keep in touch. Varric Tethras.” 

Hawke laughed, “It a gift, Athenril. For delivering a package and helping a friend.” 

Athenril narrowed her eyes at him, “If that all. Then I suggest you put it on. I have a job for you. Come along and I’ll give you the details.” She stood up and headed towards her office. Hawke saw Calder breath a sigh of relief as he gave him a reassuring smile.  
He unclipped his cloak and slipped into the leather armor. He admired the stitched design of the leather. Finding that he still had a wide range of movements in the armor, his grin widen. Athenril shouted at him to hurry up and Hawke quickly clipped his cloak back around his figure.

“Going to keep that rag?” Athenril asked when she saw him.

“It’s the look of the thing. Can look like I have any wealth living in Darktown. Not to mention people underestimate me while I wear and that is worth more than any fancy fabric.” Hawke stated. Athenril grunted her understanding and began to give him the details of his job.


	7. Poison to the Hart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meeting Anders in a new time.

Athenril found out about the Golden Lotus. She chewed out Calder and Memerin for their foolishness. Hawke tried to save Calder and Memerin, only to find himself on the cutting board himself. She sent Calder and Memerin away with cuts to their pay. The pair were relieved to leave to with all their body parts still attached so they didn’t mind the pay loss. Hawke on the other hand was given a long lecture on his actions.

“But Athenril I can protect myself.” Hawke interrupted, trying to reassure her. Instead she got even more angry and shouted even louder. So Hawke sat quietly with his head bowed waiting for Athenril to run out of words. When she finally did she restricted him to doing work on the base under Athenril firm gaze.

So Hawke was reduced to using his talent to moving shipments, and lighting torches. After the second week of his punishment Hawke was bored. He was placing a new torches on the wall of one of the smuggling tunnels towards the docks. Hawke snapped his fingers and watched as the several torches along the wall all began to burn at the same time. He had tried to make this job interesting by using fairy light. But the green glowing fire seem to terrify everyone. So he was reduced to manipulating his control of fire. He signed dramatically unsatisfied. 

“That a pretty neat trick” Hawke turned to find Anders standing behind him. Hawke’s breath had caught in this throat, and he made a startled sound.

. Anders smiled reassuring at him, and tapped his staff,“You don’t need to worry, lad. I’m a mage myself so I won’t report you.”

Hawke took a moment to remember he could in fact breath, and let out a long breath that seemed like sigh of relief. 

“How do you do it? Charm each one then active them?” Anders indicated the torches.

Hawke shock his head, “Simple fire spell. But instead of focusing on a single flame, I set multiple target to direct my magic at. The timing is tricky but you just have to take into account the distance of each torch you and direct the spell at the further first accordingly. It doesn’t take much to lite oil soaked torches, so the spell doesn’t use much magic.” Hawke knew he was blabbering but he didn’t know what to do with the sudden appearance of his lost friend. 

“You have a lot of control for someone your age.” Anders then asked. “But whats a boy like you doing in these tunnels? Aren’t they owned by a group of smugglers?”

“Working for them,” Hawke stated crossing his arms. “What are you doing in them?”

Anders shoulder fell, “Getting lost. I’m trying to find the smugglers base. I have a meeting with their leader.”

“Oh, then I’ll take you to her.” Hawke said before heading back down the tunnel he just lite. Anders had an ability of getting lost underground. He remember the time the was locked in the Duke dungeon and he had to break himself out because Anders and Varric couldn’t find him. 

Hawke glanced back to his friend. Anders looked younger and far healthier than Hawke remembered. But then again in the months leading to the Chantry explosion Anders wasn’t sleeping or eating properly. Then when he ...Hawke clenched his hand at the memory of the dagger in his hand with blood on it.

“My name is Anders. What yours?” Anders asked calling Hawke attention away from his memories. The taller mage had matched his pace and walked beside Hawke.

“Hawke,” he answered without looking up at him. He felt the guilt in his pit of his stomach and he didn’t know what he expression had. 

“So what a child like yourself doing working for a group of smugglers?” Anders asked trying he begin a conversation. 

“Paying off my debt to them. Athenril paid my way into Kirkwall and got me out of the Gallows when during the blockage against Fereldans refugee’s.” Hawke replied honestly. He trusted Anders with that knowledge before and decided to do so now. 

“What about your family?” 

Hawke still recovering from his memories was caught off guard by Anders question. The image of his family from that day on the docks stabbed him in his heart. Hawke stopped mid stride, to take a breath and banish the image. It took only a moment but Hawke picked up his pace to move ahead of Anders.

“I’m an orphan.” Hawke stated and realized it wasn’t exactly a lie. “I can take care of my self.”

Anders watched the boys back. He caught the flash of pain cross the boy face, causing twinge of anger at the injustice, and Vengeance stirred in his mind. Anders released his anger by replacing it with pity for the young boy who clearly had a hard life. But before Anders could think of anything to say. Two guards stepped into the tunnel blocking their way.

“Hawke,” the older guard nodded at the young boy. “Who’s this?”

“Athenril's next meeting. Got lost in the tunnels coming here. I’ll bring him up to Athenril.” Hawke replied gesturing to Anders.

“Trying to get in Athenril good books again? Tried of lighting torches and moving boxes?” the other guard mocked. Hawke chose to ignore him and strode past them with Anders trailing behind. 

“Jerks.” Hawke said under his breath.

“Are you trying to use me to your favor?” Anders suddenly asked. 

Hawke gave him a angry and hurt expression. “No. I was trying to help you. I know Athenril will call me for a job once her anger fades and I’m actually needed.”

“You do smuggling?”

“Here it comes...” Hawke thought, as he rolled his eyes saying. “I do work for smugglers. And my magic is useful.”

“But your just a boy. Isn’t it dangerous?” Anders argued. 

“I did say I could take care of myself. Ah, here you go. Athenril is inside. Go on, your already late.” Hawke stopped in front of Athenril office and waved him in. Anders gave him a disapproving look before opening the door and entering. Hawke leaned against the wall and listened through the door.

Anders needed help smuggling out a couple of mages out of Kirkwall. Athenril was refusing because it would get her unwanted Templar attention. Back and for they argued voices slowing raising into shouts as the two temper flared. Then Anders accused her about being a money grubbing bitch because she forces a child to endanger himself to pay off his debts. That was when the dagger embedded itself through the door. 

“Out! If I ever see you again. I’ll tan your hide!” she roared. The door flew open and Anders marched out in a fury, eyes blazing blue as he exited the base. Seeing a storm brewing Hawke tried to sneak away. 

“Hawke!” Athenril scream shock the building this time, and Hawke flinched. He resigned himself to his fate and headed into the office.

 

Later that day, Hawke found Anders in Darktown and threw a stone at the back of the blonde head. Still clearly anger from before, Anders turned with a shout hand on his staff. Then he recognized Hawke approaching him. Hawke was equally as angry and marched right up to him to kick him in the shin. With a shout of pain Anders fell to his knees. Finally eye level, Hawke glared at him ferociously. 

“Why did you have to go and bring me into your argument!?” Hawke snapped. “You made her even more angry with me! Now I have to clean the entire base from top to bottom. Then I have to do the same for the boat! Do you know how much hard work that is going to be?”

“You shouldn’t have work for smugglers in the first place.”

Hawke threw up his hands, “Grow up, Anders. This is the real world. Athenril didn’t have to help me, and I’m grateful she did. And it just so happens that I don’t mind working for her. It lets me use my magic effectively.”

“But..” Anders started. 

Hawke cut him off, “ Did you even think that the reason Athenril refused to help you is because she didn’t want to endanger me?”

“She ...she was protecting you.” Anders stuttered.

“ Not all mages are repressed and controlled, Anders. Think about the consequence fully before you act!” 

Anders was stunned into silence. He had been lectured before but not like this dark hair, blue eyed child. Hawke didn’t even insult him and had solid reasoning to his argument. This little ball of fury talked to him like a equal, and not someone who was older or wiser. And that confused him.

Hawke threw up his hands in frustration continuing his rant, “And now I have to spend the last two months of my debt in actual servitude.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize. Your debt is almost paid?” Anders blinked in confusion.

Hawke rage died in those puppy dog eyes of Anders, and he breathed out, “Well, you thought you were justify. Anyway that’s not the reason I’m here.”

“It’s not?” 

“No. I’m here to tell you, if you can get your mages to the docks just before sunrise tomorrow there will be a boat there to take them to a waiting ship.” Hawke explained.

Anders shot up, “How? Why? She?”

Hawke gave him a smug grin, “I had a couple of words with her. And she agreed. But it extended my punishment to including the boat. I can’t be seen with Templars coming around.”

Anders grabbed Hawke in a fierce hug, lifting him off the ground, “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you!” 

Hawke struggled in his grasp, “Hey, put me down. I’m not some kitten you can snuggle.”

Anders put him down with big grin on his face. Hawke straighten his cloak, looking as unimpressed as a disgruntled cat to Anders. It made him ruffle the younger mage hair. Hawke swatted his hand away and pulled up his hood pouting. 

“What can I do to repay you?” Anders asked smirking.

“Nothing. Your paying Athenril for this service.” Hawke replied half turned away from Anders.

“I’ll pay her. But what can I do for you? You went out of your way to help me even when I had gotten you in trouble. So I’ll ask again how can I repay you for your kindness?”

Hawke shook his head, “If us mages don’t help each other who will?” 

“No, I’ll...” Anders was cut off by someone shouting Hawke’s name. 

Hawke turned to find Fawn grabbing his arm, “Hawke, you have to come. Hart she’s ... sick again. It’s worse, she’s coughing blood!” Hawke didn’t ask any questions as he ran with Fawn. He didn’t notice that Anders had followed them until Fawn stopped before reaching her house. Fawn turned to stare at Anders with a hard questioning stare as Anders joggled to check up with them.

Anders caught up to them, “Good you stopped. How are you so fast running up those steps?”

“Who are you?” Fawn demanded, tense and uneasy.

Hawke waved her question away, “Anders is a mage and healer. He can help. If he wants to.” Hawke directed the last comment at Anders. 

The blonde mage nodded, “Of I’ll help but could you tell me what it you are doing?”

“You’ll see soon enough.” Hawke said as he pushed open a door into one of the dirty houses in Lowtown. Fawn decided that there was more important things than the questioning the strange mage. She ignored him and went into her home as Hawke headed into the first room on the left. Curious Anders followed them, where he found a sickly girl with red hair laying in the bed. 

Hawke went to Hart’s side, and lifted her wrist to check her pulse, finding it fast and erratic. Hart’s skin was sickly pale and didn’t even twitch under Hawke hands. Her breathing was labored, and there was blood on her lips. Hawke open Hart eye, finding her pupil dilated but responsive as it looked at Hawke.

Hawke breathed as placed his hand on Hart’s chest, allowing his magic to seep into the girl. Hawke spread his magic through out Hart’s body, waving his wave gently. Hawke eased Hart’s pain and the young girl began to breathe easier. But he couldn’t find the source of the illness. As his magic began draining, Hawke released the spell. He cursed reached into his pocket for a lyrium potion.

Hawke had forgotten about Anders presence until he spoke, “If I may?” Anders touched Hawke shoulder gently. Hawke nodded and stepped out of the way.

“I can’t find the source of the sickness.” Hawke explained as Anders knelt beside Ben and began his own observations. “Each time I heal her, and she returned to being healthy she gets sick again.”

“If I hadn’t seen you just do it, I wouldn’t have believed you.” Anders replied. “But you have the ability to heal.”

“Some skill. I wasn’t formally trained in healing, battle magic taking a more necessary importance.” Hawke replied. “I wishes I had learned more because I been finding myself healing more often than fighting these days.”

“Hmm.” Anders began his healing, hands glowing blue, magic trickling into Hart. Anders shoulder stiffened as the spell continued and the trailed his hands along Hart limbs healing her. Hart features eased as the pain lifted and skin beginning to have a better color. Anders released the spell, Hawke steadied Anders as he teetered back. 

Hart open her eyes, and Fawn cried out jumping onto the bed to rap her arms around her sister. Hart groaned, but smiled and returned the hug.

“Hello, little sister,” Hart gave her a cheeky smile. 

Fawn punched her, “You really scared me! Don’t do that again.”

Hart lowered her gaze, “Can’t do that. The Maker seems determined to bring me to his side.” Hawke narrowed his eyes as Fawn whimpered, into her sister’s chest.

“The Maker has nothing to do with this.” Anders said voice going serious. “How long have you been poisoning yourself.”

Hart looked stunned and shocked, eyes going wide, as she gasped, “Poison?”

“Yes, you have been exposed to low levels of poison. Over time you started getting sicker. You probably would have died long ago if Hawke had been healing you of the poison.” Anders explained. “So where would you have been exposed to poison if you aren’t taking yourself?”

Hart shook his head slowly, “No where. I work as dress-maker’s apprentice. The only things I touch are fabrics, thread, and needles.” 

Suddenly the house door open and a woman called in, “Henrietta, Flora. I’m home. I’ve picked up some herbs that Winifred swears can help with the illness you have.” A mousy hair woman open the bedroom door. Startled by how many people were in the room she covers her mouth and shift the basket behind her. Hawke narrow his eyes at her. 

Doreen was Hart and Fawn aunt, and their guardian after their parents death. Hart and Fawn had lived in the Pit for five months until Hart was old enough to get her inheritance. Then she could pay for a low rent house in Low Town. Their aunt appeared and moved in with them a week later. She help with the rent and cooked the food, so Hart had allowed her to stay. 

“Oh, Hawke your back. I glad to see that Henrietta has a such a good friend who come to see her.” she smiles sweetly at Hawke. But Hawke can see the smile is feign as it doesn’t reach her eyes as she looks at him. She studies Anders a moment, then changes her stance and curls her hair behind her ear. 

“And who is this fine serah?” she asks stepping towards Anders holding out her hand.

“Anders, ma’am. I’m a skilled healer, and Hawke as me to come help heal his friend.” Anders bowed his head, not taking her hand. 

Doreen looked hesitant for a moment before she smiled, “Thanks good. And how is Henrietta?” Hawke saw that hesitation and noticed her moment of nervousness as she gripped the basket. He stepped closer to her unnoticed as Doreen watched Anders.

“She should be fine now, ma’am. She should get a few day rest to let the healing take hold. But I’ve healed the illness.” Anders replied vaguely, he had also noticed Doreen odd behavior. 

“Oh, good. How much will the healing cost?”

“Nothing, ma’am. This is a favor for Hawke. And I was happy to help.”

Doreen looked relieved, “That’s good. Henrietta is forever getting sick. I didn’t know how I was going to pay for all the healing’s.”

Hawke choose that moment to snatch the basket from her, “Well you won’t have to worry about that once we find the source of Hart’s illness.” 

“Give that back, you brat!” Doreen snarled lunging for Hawke. 

Anders stepped in the way, giving her a grave expression, “I wouldn’t do that if I was you.”

Hawke shifted through the vegetables and bread till he found what he was looking for near the bottom of the baskets. He held out the offending plant, saying, “Deathroot.”

The room fell deathly silent as everyone stared hard at Doreen. Doreen tried to play innocent saying, “Is that what that is. Winifred told me it was a healing herb.”

“Don’t...just don’t. I don’t want to hear more of your lies.” Hart said softy, she looked at her aunt sadly. “But tell me why? I though we were family. I let you stay here when you had nowhere else to go.”

“Let me? LET ME!” Doreen spat on the floor. “You took everything from me. I was living fine on the inheritance until you took it. It was MINE!” A knife flashed in her hand and she lunged at Hart and Fawn. Since Anders was between Hawke and Doreen, he couldn’t strike at her. 

Fawn raised her hands and screamed, “NO!” Magic spilled from her hands and Doreen was frozen solid to the floor. Fawn collapsed into her sister’s arms, and Hart hugged her tight, crying out her name.

“It’s alright, Hart. She just exhausted from using her magic for the first time.” Hawke said, as Fawn blinked up at her sister. “Well done, Fawn.” Fawn gave him a weak smile. 

“Bitch,” Anders said staring at Doreen frozen form. “She should be taken straight to the guards and charged for attempted murder.”

Hawke shock his head, “Can’t. Then it will be revealed that Fawn’s a mage and she will be taken to the Circle.”

“No! I won’t allow it.” Hart stated firmly.

“I know you won’t.” Hawke said with a smile. “But as it stands you can’t stay in Kirkwall any longer. There’s too much risk to Hart.”

“Why? You and Feynriel live here as apostates.” Hart stated, “We can hide like you.”

“Yes, but the people who know that we are mages aren’t going to tell the Templars. This bitch will. Unless you want me to kill her.” Hawke said coldly eyeing Doreen. This offer stunned both Anders and Hart because they just stared at him. 

Then Hart shock her head, “She may have tried to kill me, but she’s still family. I won’t fall to her level and have her killed.”

Hawke nodded, “Then you can come to the Pit. It’s safest there until I can get you passage out of Kirkwall.”

“You don’t have to do that Hawke.”

“It’s the least I can do for failing to see a viper threatening you.” Hawke replied. “Tell me what you need packed.”

“Hawke...” 

Hawke gave her a pleading look, “Let me do this.” Hart shut her mouth and nodded. She began a short list of supplies to collect. When Fawn awoke she helped him carry the packs. Anders picked up the still weak Hart in his arms. She blushed as he carried her with a wink. 

Hawke lead Anders back to the Pit to be greeted by the other children. Cub ran to him to show him this cut on his elbow that he got fighting a dragon. Hawke chuckled and healed it with a brush of his fingers. Hawke had Anders place Hart in the largest bed in the shack. Fawn promptly climbed into the bed with her sister and fell asleep. 

“Sorry Anders, there isn’t a bed large enough for you. But if you can help me move some fur from the cart then we can set something up that you can at least be comfortable on.” Hawke said, showing Anders his mining cart bed. 

Anders was giving him a odd look, “Why are you doing this?”

“What setting you up a bed?” Hawke replied laying out the furs.

“No...well that too. But why do anything of this? Why help heal people without a fee? Why shelter the orphans? Why help me?” 

Hawke gave him a confused look, “Because it’s the right thing to do. I’m sure you would do the same.”

“But aren’t you afraid people will reveal you to the Templars.”

“No, well a bit.” Hawke shrugged, then he looked up directly into Anders eyes. “Anders let me tell you something. I’ve done some bad things. I’ve killed people, more people than I can count. Some I even considered friends. And I know I will kill again. But ever time I see their face when I heal them it chases the shadows away. I can go on doing good things not because of the reward but because they are good.”

Hawke turned to watch the children cooking around the fire pit, and continued, “I won’t let the fact that I’m a mage stop me from doing that. Because you know what, if you help people see the good that you can do with magic then they will stop being afraid of you. See the children here. All them have been thrown aside by society and deeply scarred. But here they can be children and grow. And when they will grow up and have children of their own they will tell their children what a mage did for them. Not the Chantry, not Kirkwall, a mage. This is the first step towards mage equality.”

Anders listened silently, mind in a haze over what this small child was telling him. He sat and curled his knees up to his chest. Hawke noticed that Anders had lost himself in thought and pulled a fur blanket over his shoulders. He left his friend with those thoughts. Hawke had spend years thinking of what he would have said to convince Anders that his actions were wrong. It took coming back to Kirkwall for Hawke to find his answer. He just hoped Anders would listen.

 

 

Anders awoke to a finger poking at his face, and he open his eyes to find a green eyes toddler staring at him. He blinked confused by the sight. 

“R’ thu’ dead?” the toddler lad asked. Anders shot up and remembered why he was in a cavern filled with children. 

“Of course he’s not dead, Cub.” Hart called. “Now come here and eat your breakfast.” Cub ran back over to the fire pit where Hart was holding some bread. He grabbed the bread and sat down by his twin sister quietly munching on her piece of bread. Anders stood up and follow the toddler, to sit by the still burning fire. Anders noticed that it had a green glow to it and leaned closer to study it.

“Hawke made it.” Hart explained to his questioning gaze. “Continues to burning even if we don’t have any wood to feed it. It the only source of warmth down here so it don’t matter if it’s green.”

“Magic fire,” Cub said with a mouth full of food. Anders smiled and remembered Hawke’s words. 

“How are you feel Henrietta?” Anders asked leaning into put his hand on her forehead. 

She smiled. “Just fine. I slept like the dead last night and feel as refreshed as a daisy. And call me Hart. Everyone down here has animal names, it’s a bit of a tradition. I think I'm going have to change our names anyway, and these are as good as any other.”

Anders nodded understanding, then looked around, “Where’s your sister?”

“Fawn? She over in Hawke training area trying to do magic,” she pointed over to the darker section of the cavern. “I told her to wait for Hawke return. But she wants to surprise him.”

“Where is he by the way?” 

“Went to the smugglers. He’s going to ask them to smuggle Fawn and I with the mages they’re going to transport to tonight.”

Anders looked startled, “How are you going to pay for that?”

“Hawke going to ask that the fee be added to his debt.” she glanced away ashamed. “Hawke had told me that I best save my money for setting up a new life. But I couldn’t pay it even if I wanted to. And Hawke had already decided to help. We all learned early that when Hawke makes a decision that nothing can be done to change that.’

“He’s a good lad.” Anders smiled softly knowing the feeling. “So do you know anything about him?”

“I know he’s as stubborn and as powerful as a dragon. He’s protective of anyone who lives in the Pit. He’s also smart, even smarter than Chantry mothers. His maturity come from his hard life and experience. About his past. Nothing.” Hart replied shaking her head. “He’s got Andraste blood in him. Who are we to question where he come’s from.”

Anders shifted uncomfortably, but a sudden explosion of light caught their attention. 

“Fawn!” Hart called with a worried tone. Rising to head into the shadows with Anders at her heels.

“I’m alright,” the young girl picked herself off the ground, dusting the dirt of her leggings.

Hart sighed, “This is why I said wait for Hawke. He can show you properly.”

“But I did magic yesterday.”

“That was a formless spell working off your intent.” Anders explained.

“Huh?” Fawn tilted her head in confusion. Anders thought how to best explain it. He was never allowed even close to the young apprentices back in the tower in case his rebellious nature would spread.

“Lets see you wanted to stop your aunt yesterday, right?”

“Yes!”

“So your magic used your will to create ice. It wasn’t a spell which needed structure and intent to create a form.” Anders tried.

“I still don’t understand.” Fawn said. “I created ice because I wanted to. But I want to now.”

“Sort of...” Anders shoulders slumped. “Magic need your will to work, but it also need structure. Like...like water!”

“Huh?”

“Well, lets say magic is like water. If you pour water on the floor it just get every where. But if you had pore water into a cup it takes a form. Like what you did, your magic just went everywhere as a fireball. But if you give it form.” Anders threw out his hand, lighting a torch on the wall. “It creates the shape you want.”

“Oh...” Fawn stared at the fire then at Anders. “How do I do that?”

“Hmm...” Anders floundered.

“Alright, that enough magic, Fawn. Wait for Hawke to return and he can teach you. Come eat.” Hart stated drawing her sister to the fire pit. 

Anders felt a bit bad having a child teach another child. But Hawke could talk to the children in a way he couldn’t. Kitten came up to him and sat herself in the light of the torch and began drawing in the dirt with a stick.

“What’s are you doing?” Anders tried talking to the child, looking down. 

“Doggy!” Kitten pointed at her scribble. 

“I see.” He really didn’t, it looked like scribble to him. 

“Draw! Like Hawke.” the little girl pointed up at the wall. Anders turned his head and could see something carved into the cavern wall. He got closer but he couldn’t make it out in the dim light of the torch. Then he saw more torches, and lite them with his magic. 

Anders found himself surrounded by writings carved into the walls. Complex runes, ancient languages, enchanted symbols, and magic calculation. He couldn’t even understand half of the things on the walls. And what he did understand scared him. 

He turned frantically to Hart grabbing her shoulder, “Did Hawke draw those?!”

Hart gave him a startled look, “Of course he did.”

“How!” Anders nearly shock her.

“I did say he was smart. And before you ask I don’t know what he draws there, but he’s been doing that from the beginning. Hawke is trying to figure something out. He used to stare at those walls for hours.” She detached her self from him, and asked, “Do you know what he’s doing?”

“No, and that scares me. Being able to use magic at a young age is one thing. This...” He gesture at the runes. “Is something entirely different.”

“Then I suggest you ask Hawke then.” Hart replied. “He might answer you.”

So Anders waited studying the wall in all it forms, even using the fairy light on them. The longer he stared the more confused he got. He was lost in his thought when Hawke returned and found him sitting there.

“It was too much to hope for you not to notice these.” Hawke sighed. 

Anders shot up, waving at he wall “And what are these!”

“You know what they are.” Hawke met his gaze firmly.

“No, I don’t.”

“You don’t? But you had a Circle education.”

“I didn’t stay long enough in the Circle to get a proper education. I favored my practical lesson more than the ones on magical theory.” Anders snapped. “I want to know how you do!”

Hawke hesitated and looked away trying to think of an answer. 

Anders saw this and said, “Don’t lie to me, Hawke. Tell me the truth.”

Hawke body stiffened and a stubborn frown appeared on his lips, “No. I don’t need to tell you anything.”

“Hawke, this isn’t possible. A child your age shouldn’t know thing like this!” Anders stated, grabbing his shoulder.

Hawke tugged his shoulder out of Anders grip, turning away from him as he said, “No they shouldn’t. But I do. You already know I’m not a normal child.”

“Does it have to do with what’s written here?”

Hawke spun and shot a fireball at the largest rune circle scorching the wall, “Forget what you seen. How I came to be this way is to dangerous for you to know. But it won’t happen again.”

“Hawke...” Anders tried.

“No, leave it!” Hawke snapped. “I don’t need to be saved Anders.”

Anders stepped back, stunned, “Is that what you think...I’m just worried.”

“I don’t need your pity or your idea of justice. Go save another mage.” Hawke turned his back, dismissing him. Anders felt he had pushed Hawke to far. Justice lingering in the shadows of his mind was out raged at Hawke’s words. Anders turned and walked away from Hawke before he did something he regretted. He stormed out of the carven not looking back. 

 

 

That night he when he brought the mages to the docks he could still hear those words in his mind. He found Hart, Fawn, and Hawke waiting at the meeting spot at the docks. He ignored Hawke and turned to the sea to see a boat arriving through the fog. It signaled them with a lantern which Hawke returned with a glow from his hand.

Hart came up to him, “Sorry about Hawke. If I had known he was going to react that way I would have warned you. I’m just used to how gentle he is with the children that I can forget how hard he can be to adults.”

“You have nothing to apologize for. I think I pushed Hawke too far. I mean he doesn’t knows me, so why would he open up to me.” Anders replied with a bit of harshness in his voice.

“I’m not certain about that. Hawke does seem to trust you.”

Anders raised his eyebrow, “How do you know that?”

“Because you’re the only adult Hawke has ever brought to the Pit,” Hart replied. “The last one that entered without Hawke’s permission, he broke the floor.”

“What?”

“Yes. And I’ve seen him with you. It usually takes a long time for Hawke to warm you others enough that he can relax around them.”

Anders turned his gaze to Hawke who was talking to the smugglers. “He does?”

“Perhaps because you didn’t meet him before Fennec you can’t see the difference.” Hart said vaguely.

“I...think I should...”

“Hart, Fawn. Come along the boat waiting.” Hawke called.

Hart rapped a arm around Anders waist, “Don’t destroy what Hawke’s seems willing to give. His friendship. Goodbye Anders, and thank you.”

Hart took Fawn hand who waved at Anders. Anders watched Hawke be hugged by the girls a warm smile of his face that made his seem so young. The other mages shook Anders hand gratefully and board the small vessel. Once everyone as on the boat, it pushed off and disappeared into the fog leaving Anders and Hawke alone. 

“Hawke...”Anders started throat a bit dry.

“Anders.” Hawke replied crossing his arms.

“Hmm...I know I didn’t seem grateful last night. But I am.” Anders turned to look Hawke in the eye. “I thought about your words. And I know that you don’t need my help. But can I ask for yours when I need it?” Anders saw Hawke relax, realizing the truth of Harts words.

“Only if you show me how to be a better healer,” Hawke said with a wide smile. 

“That I can do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit longer than my usual, but I like the scene Anders is trying to teach the children.


	8. Storm Tide

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The storm that changed Kirkwall has arrived.

Hawke sat on the roof top of Gamlen house overlooking Lowtown, pulling his cloak tight against himself to keep the wind from tearing it away. It was a warm day, but the wind brought the threat of a storm. He sat half hidden in the shadow of a forgotten barrel as he stared down at the dirty streets of Lowtown. The people of Lowtown were busy preparing for the incoming storm. Shutters-covered windows, containers of heavy stones blocked doorways, and the last minute purchases of supplies. The sounded of the Bazaar echoed down the streets and the smoke of the industrial furnaces twisted in the wind.

Hawke had found himself drawn to Gamlen House, watching his family in their daily routines. He was unsure of what he wanted out these visits. But each time he began thinking about his future here in this Kirkwall he found himself on this roof.

“Is there no hope for me? Should I forget the rune, destroy my notes, drop this amulet in the sea?” his thoughts wandered. Hawke began fingering the black lyrium amulet he called the Broken Stone. He always wore the necklace under his clothes, it cold presence pressed against his chest. 

He could hear the distance voiced as his uncle and mother arguing with each other. Bethany and Carver interrupted the argument only to begin their own. Hawke wondered if all siblings argued with each other. Bethany and Carver were forever clashing with each other, but he had always been there to mediate and to overrule it before the argument got too far. As the years past, he was still arguing with Carver. It seems like he would have continued to do so until he was old like his mother and Gamlen.

The front door slammed open and Carver marched out as he strapped his sword to his back. A moment later Bethany dashes after his calling his name. Hawke shook his head, but he knew that look on Carver face. Carver just needed to release his emotions. Bethany was going to make it worse trying to go after him and apologize. For a second he stood up to go stop Bethany and froze. 

The moment of pain was still sharp but the pain was fading. He clutched his hand to his chest, and faded back into the shadows. Hawke jumped from roof to roof, climbing along planks of wood and slid down a drain pipe. When he hit the street, he raised his hood over his head and just another child on the street. He dodged people as he followed Bethany and Carver. He stopped when he saw Bethany grab Carver arms.

Carver whirled on her, snapping something at her. Hawke positioned himself on the corner of the street to remain unseen, but he was too far to hear what was said. Bethany spoke softly and Carver aggression seemed to bleed out of him. Hawke watched distantly, noticing that Bethany had more confidence than he remembers. Carver nodded with her words and let his anger go. Carver was more mature, and he normally he would stew in his emotions for days. Bethany hugged him gently and then they went off together. 

This world was different, and his siblings were different. This Bethany and Carver were stronger without him. Hawke couldn’t get any closer to them. It was like a barrier had been built between them.

“But they are both alive. It doesn’t matter that they don’t know who I am. I’m not going to lose them again.” Hawke stared off after his siblings.

With that thought firmly in his mind he turned himself back toward the docks. A fierce wind hit him, blowing his cloak wide. Hawke shivered in leather armor, grabbing the edges of his cloak and drew it around himself. He stared off into the distance. The sun was lying low in the sky, but the sea was shadowed by giant dark clouds. The wind brought with it the smells of salt, rain, and the burnt smell of lighting. Hawke stood there realizing what was happening. 

“It begins,” he thinks. And like a weathercock pointing in the wind, Hawke felt himself find direction. He knew what he wanted to do, and how to do it. There was no hesitation in his step anymore. Hawke shouldered his pack and headed out of Kirkwall just as the doors were closing. 

He made an excuse to the guard that he had to reach his grandfather with his medicine before the storm made landfall. The guard shooed him away warning him that he best hurry before the storm hit. Hawke traveled down the coast following the cliffs, watching the sea. The sea had turned dark and the waves rose higher white tips reaching toward the sky. The wind tore at Hawke as he walked and he had to move away from the edge for fear of getting blown over. He still hadn’t seen any sign of ships on the horizon.

The rain started in a light down pore driving Hawke to seek shelter in some coast caves. Hawke began a fire with the wood plants he knew where in the abandon mining caves. The Tal-Vashoth had made this cavern their base.

“Or will make these caverns their base. But then perhaps not. This time line has changed a lot of things. ” Hawke thought, as he laid his cloak out to dry. He took his packed bread out and began to munch on it as he found a spot to sit at the mouth of the cave. The storm was roaring outside. Protected by the cavern, Hawke watched and waited for the sounds he knew where coming.

Without the light of the sun or stars Hawke didn’t know how long he waited. It could have been hours or only a single hour. He felt dark thoughts creeping in on him, but he held them at bay with the image of his siblings. He was going to do it. 

He heard a thunderous roar which was nothing like the sound of the storm. He grabbed his cloak and ran out into the storm. The pelting rain stung his face, but he shielded his eyes and when to the edge of the cliff. A flash of light on the horizon caught his eye. Not the blue white flash of lighting but an orange burst. 

Hawke spotted the tiny form a ship sails white against the grey sky. Isabella’s ‘Siren Call’ struggled through ever growing waves. Then Hawke saw it; the fearsome form of a Qunari dreadnought rising over the crest of a large wave. Hawke was in awe, for he hadn’t seen a dreadnought before and it certainly held up to its reputation. The great ship was twice the length of the smaller ship it chased. The dreadnought had its sails folded but it still sailed, climbing over the waves like a massive beast. 

A series of blast echoed over the sounds of the storm, and smoke spewed from the sides of the dreadnought. The mast of the Siren Call shuttered and tipped over the side of the ship. Hawke watched the desperate chase with amazement. But the figures were getting farther away, and he was having a hard time seeing them.

“Maker, they going to crash further up the coast,” Hawke realized. He tore his gaze away from the ship and began to make his way along the rock as fast as he could. The rocks and stones were slippery from the rain slowing his progress. He could no longer see the ships. Hawke fell nearly twisting his ankle trying to watch the sea to find instead of his footing. 

“Slow, Hawke. Breathe,” he told himself. “Nothing will come of it if you hurt yourself before then.” Hawke stood up, pulled his cloak around himself and slowly made his way down the path.

The sounds of smashing wood and metal echoed across the coast. Hawke picked up his pace but it was nearly ten minutes before he spotted the wreckage. It was the ‘Siren Call’ smashed into a sharp rock outcrop like a fish on a pike. He could hear the cries of men on the wind. 

A shadow in the distance showed the form of the dreadnought. The giant waves were driving the ship way from its prey despite its struggles. The dreadnought fell out of sight behind the cliff face. It took only a moment for the sound of the dreadnought hitting the coast to reach Hawke. A series of explosions filled the air, and an orange light lite the sky for a brief moment. 

Hawke turned his gaze back to the ‘Siren Call’. He could see a couple of men trying to climb the cliff face. But the waves of the storm dragged them into the sea. Hawke had no way of reaching the ship as there wasn’t any land path to the ship. All Hawke could do, was watch in horror as large waves hit the vessel swamping it.

The ship wood shrieked like a dying wail as the ship was broken from the rock. It only took another wave for the ‘Siren Call’ to disappear from sight. Hawke stood shocked, gripping his cloak tight shivering. He would have headed to the beach but the waves were too threatening. So Hawke found shelter in the lee of a stone. 

“The force of nature is ruled by no one, and no matter the situation that we mortals play, no one can defy it,” Hawke thought. His wet cloak offered no warm so he created a small fire between his hands. It took focus to maintain a small flame, allowing it to use only a bit of magic at a time. He knew he should have waited back in the cavern but his excitement had got the best of him. So he waited until the storm past.

 

 

It was dawn by the time the storm had drifted away, leaving the wreckage of the night shattered across the beach. He stayed away from the beach where he knew the Qunari were recovering. The dreadnought was a broken shell laying on its side like a beached whale. Hawke walked between the broken boards and pieces of shipment looking for survivors, and his ultimate goal. He found only dead sailors, and broken shards. The beach reminded him of the aftermath of a battle.

“Help . . . ” a broken gasp reached his ears. It had come from a large broken piece of the ship. Flinging sand into the air, Hawke ran. He found a sailor pinned under a piece of a mast only the upper part of his body showing. His tanned skin was ashen and his expression twisted in pain. 

“Help . . . please,” the sailor moaned in pain.

Hawke, knelt down to inspect the wood pinning the man. The man’s eyes were blackened, and stared up at Hawke.

“Lad . . . get help”

“Please, don’t move. I’m going to lift this.” Hawke explained as he stood up.

“Ha . . . wee’ lad . . . you . . . can’t . . . ” the man gasped through the pain. Hawke took out his broken staff, and waved his glowing hands. Willing his magic to lift the broken mast piece, gently moved the piece so not to hurt the man. Hawke placed the piece aside and released his magic. 

The sailor gapped at Hawke then shut his eyes in pain. Hawke knelt beside him, saying, “Please don’t be afraid of me. I’m just here to help.” 

“Lad . . . I don’t care if you’re a demon.” The sailor breathed sharply. Hawke began a healing spell but realized that there was so much destroyed that he couldn’t heal everything. He frowned and focused his magic on the man’s heart. He was using it to keep it beating.

“I’m sorry. I’m not an every good healer. I’m sorry.”

“Why can’t I feel my legs?”

“Your spine . . . it’s been smashed. I don’t know how to heal it. I can ease the pain for now.” Hawke said, as sweat pored off of him. 

The sailor was silent for a long time, before he spoke, “Lad, you just save me from a lot pain. I didn’t believe in the Maker before this but you must have been sent by him. Why else would you be out here. No matter, I need you to do two things for me.”

“Yes?” Hawke voice was small.

The sailor reached into the necklace around his neck. It was made of thick iron chains, and leather. At the center was a green jewel was fastened. He held it out to Hawke. 

“Can you give this to a woman named Isabella? She is the captain of the ‘Siren Call’ or at least she was until it hit the bottom of the sea. Tell her, Green Eye said, ‘It was a night never meant to last.’ Got that?” the sailor told him with sadness in his eyes. “If you can’t find her or she’s dead you can keep it, ok?”

“Ok, find Isabella.” Hawke nodded.

“Good lad.” Green Eye smiled softly. “Now the second thing you can do is to let me die.”

Hawke felt snow melt in his veins and he stared at the sailor.

“I know you’ve tried so hard to save me. But I won’t survive without legs. I have enemies that will find me. That is if I survive the vultures on the coast,” he closed his eyes and swallowed. “So please give me a merciful death.” 

“I...I will,” Hawke looked away deeply saddened. But he knew the truth of the sailor’s words.

“What is your name, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Hawke,” he said in a small voice.

“Thank you, Hawke. You are going the Makers work today.” Green Eye gripped his hand. “Once I’m dead, push me into the ocean so I can be with my lady love.”

Hawke didn’t say anything else merely casting a spelling spell over the man. Green Eyes features eased and Hawke releases the healing spell. Hawke placed his hand over his heart and felt it slow until it stopped. With tears in his eye’s Hawke used his magic to pull the man out into the waves. He watched the man named Green Eyes disappears into the sea. 

Hawke stood up and walked way. His mind no longer on the task at hand. Hawke wandered the coast, seeing savages and guards appearing. Hawke knew he wasn’t going to find the Relic. It was long gone by now, and he didn’t have the heart to try. But there will be other chances to get the Relic, he knew.

A sudden shout caught his attention and he turned the bend to find a Qunari lifting a man by the throat roaring in Qunlat. The man whimpered a reply before the Qunari snapped his neck. The Qunari threw him aside like a rag doll and staggered as he tried to stand. The sea had washed away the vitaar normally painted on a qunari's skin. Instead it was replaced with the blood from his wounds. Hawke knew the Qunari wouldn’t last if he didn’t get help. 

But Hawke had only a small reserve of magic left from trying to aid Green Eyes. And he couldn’t use magic on a Qunari. They would rather die than allow magic to tint them. So Hawke fished into his pack for healing potions he knew was there. Hawke slowly approached the Qunari, and stopped out of reach. 

“Kost” Hawke called. The Qunari spun around face twisted in a snarl.

“Kost. Maraas shokra. Anaan esaam Qun.” Hawke tried again, remembered what Fenris had said to the Arishok. It was the only words he knew in Qunlat. 

The qunari expression turned from rage to confusion. He was froze stiff staring at Hawke like he was a blighted rift; Strange, unknown, and frightening.

Hawke held out his potion for the Qunari to see, saying, “Here drink. It will heal your wounds.”

The Qunari still didn’t react, but began shifting his feet. Hawke didn’t want to get any closer having already seen what the Qunari was capable of. So he tried tossing the potion for the Qunari to catch. The potion hit the Qunari in the chest and bounced off to smash on the ground. The Qunari didn’t even flinch, continue to stare at Hawke.

Hawke groaned and smacked his face. He reached into his pack and got another potion. He felt the small knife he kept hidden in there. Then he got an idea, and brought out the knife. 

“Let’s try this again,” he said out loud. Hawke cut his finger and showed the bleeding index to the Qunari. The only reaction he got was a confused blink. Hawke brought out a potion and took a sip from it. He held out his finger again, as it began healing and covering the wound with pink skin. Then Hawke placed the potion on the ground and stepped back.

“There, it’s safe. So go ahead and drink it.” Hawke spread his arms wide to show he was no threat. The Qunari hesitated then stepped forward and took the potion. He inspected it in his large hand before drinking it. Hawke watched as the Qunari wounds only partly healed. So he took out another potion, tossing it to the Qunari. This time he caught it and drank it. 

The Qunari bowed his thanks, saying several words that Hawke didn’t understand. Hawke returned the bow with a nod of his head. 

The Hawke pointed down the coast saying, “Qunari, and Arishok.” After two more gestures, the Qunari got The message. 

He shook his head, saying, “Taam-kas,” before he returning to searching through the rubble. 

“He’s looking for his weapon.” Hawke realized. He thought back to what he had seen along the coast and he remembered seeing the handle of Qunari great-axe. 

So Hawke called, “Taam-kas”. He gestured with his hand for the Qunari to follow. The Qunari quickly shot up and with easy strides caught up with Hawke. Hawke leapt and danced along the rock trying to keep ahead of the Qunari. Hawke head back to the spot he saw the great-axe and hoped it was what the Qunari was looking for.

Then Hawke saw a group of heavily armed scavengers in the spot. One of the men was holding the great-axe up to inspect it. The Qunari roared a battle cry and charged the scavengers. The scavengers startled by the sound found an enraged Qunari charging them and scattered. 

The Qunari picked up a large piece of driftwood and wielded it like an axe. He focused on the man holding the great-axe. The man tried to use the weapon to defend himself but he found his legs swept out from under him and his head smashed in by a log. The Qunari picked up the great-axe and turned on the rest of the scavengers with a snarl. 

Hawke stood back, knowing the Qunari was a superior fighter to the thieves. And he didn’t want to reveal his magic to the Qunari. So he watched as two men ran for it only to be cut down from behind by the faster Qunari. The one of the men put up a better fight with his sword but he was quickly over powered by the Qunari. Hawke saw one of the archers raise his bow and he threw a rock at him. This distracted the archer long enough to be cut down but the Qunari.

It wasn’t long before the Qunari stood in a pile of corpses breathing heavily. The Qunari stared at the bloody great-axe for a long moment. Then the Qunari clutched his great-axe close to his chest like a lost child. 

“Cute, in a weird way.” Hawke said, but still felt good about himself. Some good had happened because he had come to the coast during the storm. He turned away and heads back down the path toward Kirkwall. He heard a shout, and turned back to find the Qunari calling for him. 

“Basalit-an” the Qunari called again. Then he pointed to himself as said, “Taam-kasari” He continued to speak but Hawke just shock his head not understanding. The Qunari pointed at himself repeating, “Taam-karari” then pointed at Hawke calling him, “Basalit-an.”

Thinking he wanted his name Hawke, called out, “Hawke.” Then he pointed at himself. The Qunari moved to rush to him, but Hawke stopped him with a gesture of his hand. He heard the screech of a hawk above him. Hawke pointed at himself repeating his name and pointed at the bird flying high above them. 

Hawke pointed back down the coast repeating his earlier instruction. The voiced of Qunari could be heard closer now, and a couple of soldier’s marched over the rise. Qunari turned his head to look and Hawke disappeared into the rocks. Hawke could still hear the Qunari calling him but Hawke couldn’t risk getting caught by the Qunari. 

He found more survivors being carried by the guards. He giving them healing potions and bandaged their wounds. He traveled with them as they were brought back to Kirkwall. The rest of that day he continued to smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was crying as I wrote Green Eyes death in public. I so emotional. A Qunari clutching his weapon to his chest like a teddy bear is cute to me. I'm weird ok. Anyway hope you like this latest chapter.  
> Thanks for reading, and have a good day!


	9. Cloaks and Guardsmen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hawke being sick and still being Hawke.

Hawke sneezed loudly, mucus dripping from his nose. He sniffed it back only to begin a fit of coughing. When he stopped coughing, he groaned and let his head drop onto his lap. He was sitting in Anders new Clinic, watching Anders mix a herb brew for him and feeling miserable.

“Is it done yet?” Hawke asked nasally.

“Not yet,” Anders replied stirring the green mixture over the fire. “Tell me again, why were you out on the coast in the middle of a storm?”

“Making a delivery,” Hawke sniffed.

“In the middle of the storm?” Anders raised his eyebrow.

“I didn’t think I would be caught out in the storm. And it was a rush job.” Hawke sneezed and rubbed his nose in his grey cloak. 

Anders wrinkled his nose, “I think you’re going to have to burn that cloak when this is done.”

“What?” Hawke asked raising his head genuinely shocked.

“Look at it. It’s disgusting. It’s torn, and covered in mud. Some of which I believe is blood. Now it has your snot all over it.”

Hawke let the cloak go, saying, “But this . . . ” He didn’t finish what he was going to say; which is that he got this cloak when he found his family alive. It reminds him of them. It had come so far with him, but it pained him to let it go.

“I won’t burn it,” Hawke said firmly and hid the cloak behind him. 

Anders sighed, “At least buy a new one, maybe one that will protect you from the rain. Hmm?”

Hawke coughed again and rubbed his raw throat, “That might be a good idea.”

“See. Now drink this, and mind you drink all of it.” Anders replied handing him a bowl of steaming green paste. Hawke took a sip and shuttered at the taste. 

Anders chuckled, “I can put some honey in it to take away the bitterness. Other kids drink it when I do that.”

Hawke made a face and said, “No I will drink it.” And he downed a larger mouthful. Anders half smile told Hawke that he had been played. 

“Now, if I can find one of my old cloaks,” Anders stood up and went into his room at the back of the clinic. Hawke continued to drink the gross mixture, making faces at every gulp. 

Anders returned holding out a cloak, “It’s a bit long but we can cut it down to your size.”

Hawke stared at the cloak, saying slowly, “It’s a grey warden blue.”

Anders looked a bit uncomfortable, “Yes, well I know I haven’t told you this but I was a grey warden.”

“You are a grey warden,” Hawke stated, “But are you sure? It’s enchanted”

“Well I can’t wear it now that I’ve left the grey wardens. And I’d rather it protect you than sit gathering dust in my chest.” Anders held up the cloak for Hawke to inspect.

Hawke hesitantly touches the light-blue grey material, and inspecting the enchantments. Anders watched amused as the young boy ran his fingers over the fabric like it was a holy object, and felt strange that he did it with something of his. He tossed the cloak over Hawke head and laughed as the boy struggled to get himself out from under it. Hawke’s pokes his head out, hair ruffled and messy, sticking out at odd ends which made Anders laugh again. Hawke gave him a disapproving pout before trying to straighten his hair. 

Hawke drew the warden cloak around himself, but the tail of the cloak fell on the floor around him. Hawke smiled up at him, the blue of cloak making his eyes shine. Anders ruffled the boy’s hair in affection.

“Anders!” Hawke said indignantly, stepping away from him. 

Anders had forgotten how to smile since the deep road, but this small child effortlessly makes’ him laugh. When he had first set up the clinic to help the refugees, Hawke had magically appeared helping him mix potion and heal the less serious injuries. He was beginning to wonder if Hawke really had Andraste blood. 

“It looks good on you.” Anders said honestly. “ Now let me measure so I can cut it.”

Hawke shook his head, “That would ruin the enchantments. I’ll get Song to helm it, then I can keep using it as I get taller.”

“If you get taller.” Anders had notice Hawke had bit of short complex, forever muttering that he wanted to be taller. 

“I will be taller that you when I’m older.” Hawke said firmly. That was another thing Anders noticed. Hawke said, ‘older’ not when he grew up or when he was an adult. But then again Hawke already saw himself as a mature adult despite his size. 

Hawke began coughing again, covering his mouth with his sleeve. 

“That it your going back to the Pit and getting some rest. The potion will only work if you let your body rest.” Anders pored the rest of the mixture into a flask and handed it to Hawke. Hawke folded the warden cloak under his arm and took the potion. 

“Do you want me to walk to back to the Pit?” Anders asked. 

“Anders!” a young man walked in carrying an elderly man on his shoulder. Anders rushed up the man and helped guide his father to a bed. 

“Father, he was down by the dock when to saw a legion of giant men and he collapsed.” The young man explained.

“You’re busy, Anders.” Hawke said walking past them. “I’ll be fine on my own.”

“Be safe, Hawke!” Anders called before focusing his attention on the old man. 

Hawke exited the clinic and pulled up the hood of his old cloak. Then he saw his brother and sister coming up the stairs. He froze, but they walked past him talking to each other not even noticing him. Hawke felt a stab of pain but he dismissed it. Bethany and Carver were heading into the cellar of the Amell mansion.

Hawke felt a ghost of a smile on his lips, “At least events are happening in order. Maybe I still have a chance.”

He slid into the shadows of Darktown, carefully avoiding the more territorial areas as he made his way back to the Pit. He hid behind a barrel when he spotted a group of armed thieves marching down the tunnel. 

“Why do we have to do this now?” one of the men asked.

“Because the last group fucked up. Now the satchel is being moved in Lowtown. We have to get it or we won’t get the information at all,” the female leader spat. “And you don’t get paid, so stop whining.”

When the group past Hawke stepped out his hiding spot, thinking, “Or maybe not.” He coughed and rubbed his raw throat. He just wanted to get back to the Pit and sleep for a week. But he continued to stare after the thieves.

“It couldn’t hurt to watch the thieves to make sure events happen as they are supposed to,” Hawke told himself. He began to follow the thieves through the dark tunnels and up into Low town. The thieves stalked down the alley’s, while Hawke headed to the roofs to watch them. 

The streets were unusually dead even for the middle of the night. The thieves set their ambush near the Foundry, hiding themselves in the shadow of the buildings and behind a street stall. Hawke placed himself at the corner of the building beside the alley, flat on his belly so he wouldn’t be spotted.

Guards man Donnic strolled down the street not looking as alert as he should in Lowtown. He didn’t notice the thieves until they were on top of him. They forced him into the alley, as he wielded his sword cutting down two of them. But he was hopelessly out numbered.

Hawke glanced at the empty streets searching for Aveline. A pained shout from Donnic forced Hawke to act. He stood up on the roof to and shot a wall of ice around Donnic, protecting him from the next blow.

“He brought a friend,” a thief stated.

“He was supposed to be alone! Get him!” the leader pointed up at Hawke figures on the roof top. Hawke wasted no time drawing his broken staff and rained fire down on the thieves. The thieves shattered except for the one’s with a shield. Hawke broke off a piece of a roof, threw the stone to knock down the leader. 

Arrow shots whistled past him, and he sidestepped dodging another. In the same motion he drew fire into his hand and threw it at another of the warriors. He had to focus on keeping Donnic alive for Aveline sake. 

There was a sudden shout of pain from the archers as they were hit from by a charging Aveline. Hawke smiled, relieved he had some ground aid. He used the momentary distraction to form a complex spell. Using his test with manipulation, Hawke Petrify five of the thieves in the same spell. Aveline struck one of them down with a cut to the neck and other with a blow to the head.

He took a deep breath, allowing his magic to flow back to him. Then grew a large fireball in his hands which he threw at the thief’s leader. She could only watch in horror at the fireball descended and burn her to a crisp. Aveline cut down the last petrified thief, blood splattering across her face. 

Aveline went over to aid Donnic lifting him up onto his feet. 

“Who . . . Ave . . . Aveline.” Donnic stuttered, and stared at his rescuer. “You’re a beautiful sight.”

Aveline smiled sweetly at him, “Guards man.”

Hawke sneezed loudly, breaking the moment, and covering his hand in mucus. He muttered, “This is disgusting.” The two guard stepped quickly away from each other, thinking his remark was meant for them. 

Aveline looked up to the small form on the roof top, calling, “Hawke is that you?”

“Achoo . . . yah . . . ” Hawke mumbled, rubbing his nose with his cloak.

“Come down here,” it was clearly an order. So Hawke jumped off the roof and used his magic to slow his decent. Donnic gasped as Hawke dropped lightly to the ground.

Aveline knelt, pulling back his hood to look at Hawke, “Hawke you look horrible. Are you hurt anywhere?”

Hawke shook his head, coughing, “Just sick. Nothing a potion and some rest won’t fix.”

“What are you doing out here anyway?” Aveline asked seriously.

“Heard some thieves were going to attack a guards man. So I followed them hoping to stop them. It’s weird though, but they were after a satchel.” Hawke hinted, as he looked at the fallen satchel.

Donnic bent over and opened the book, saying, “The seal of the Viscount, office details, city accounts.”

“Valuable to a guild of thieves,” Hawke sneezed again.

“A sacrificial delivery with one of our own. Captain Jeven is going to answer for this.” Aveline pounded her fist into her hand. 

“I should have known something was up when the Captain said this route was cleared. It’s Lowtown, there always danger here.” Donnic reprimanded himself. 

“It’s alright. You didn’t have any reason to be suspicious.” Aveline replied clasping his shoulder.

“But you did. I’m glad your around, Aveline, or I’d be another name on the wall.” Donnic said smiling which Aveline returned. 

“Go on, love birds. There a captain to arrest, and new guard captain to be appointed,”Hawke coughed heavily into his hand. “I’m going to bed.” He pulled his hood back over his head.

“I’ll check in on you later, Hawke,” Aveline said looking down at him. 

Hawke waved his hand replying, “I’m sure you are going to be too busy for that Aveline. Just ask your informants for an update.” Then he walked off, using every ounce of strength left in him to get back to the Pit and collapse into the straw of his bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A shorter chapter full of fluffy feelings and a bit of action.  
> Have a good day! Thanks for continuing to read my fan fiction.


	10. Meetings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New meetings with old faces. Talking about feelings and the past.

Varric stomach grumbled loudly and he sighed setting aside his book. Everything seemed to be late; his partners, his meal, and of course Hawke. He got up and headed to the Hanged Man kitchen. A single swinging door separated the small kitchen from the rest of the Tavern. Varric pushed it open to find the kitchen empty of it’s usually resident, Eiger the cook. 

“Eiger! Eiger, where’s that meal I asked for?” Varric called, as a strange smell assaulted his nose. “Why does it smell like burnt meat?” 

He moved through the kitchen looking for the source of the smell. There was no smoke lingering in the air. The smell got stronger as he reached the rear entrance. Varric peered outside to find Hawke healing an injured Eiger. The cook was a large man, even sitting he was a head taller than Hawke. He held a hand to his forehead, blood seeped through his finger tips. But Varric could see that Hawke was already healing the wound.

“Hawke!” he said in surprise.

The dark hair boy glanced over his shoulder at him, and said, “Varric, sorry I’m late. Eiger was having some trouble with some thugs.”

Varric noticed the smoldering piles of ashes scattered throughout the alley, and asked, “Trouble?”

“Hardly a problem, they didn’t even put up a fight.” Hawke replied as he stood up, dusting the ashes off his cloak. 

Varric hummed in his throat, “Hawke, you need to learn the definition of a problem. But I’m glad you save our cook. I would starve without his meals.”

At this remark, Eiger stood up, and towering over the two of them. He headed directly into the kitchen and Varric quickly stepped out of the way of the big man. Eiger took out a large wooden spoon and began to stir the stew on the fire. 

“Looks like our meal will be salvaged and we’ll get to eat.” Varric said with a chuckle. “Come along, Hawke.” Hawke walked into the kitchen and saw a pair of giant knives on the rack.

“Eiger, I suggest wearing those all the time,” Hawke said pointing to the knives. “You’re already big enough to be intimidating. But those will give people’s pause before attacking you.”

Eiger huffed, and Varric interrupted, “You don’t have to use them. Just wear them. Appearance is a key tactic to protection. Look like a target and people will attack you. Look like you can tear a man apart, and people will avoid you. Think about it.” 

The giant cook didn’t say anything but Varric didn’t expect him to. Hawke followed him out of the kitchen and up to his room. 

“Do you know why Eiger is being attacked by the Sharps Highwaymen?” Hawke asked as he flung himself into Varric’s dwarf sized chairs. Hawke liked the wooden chair because his feet could touch the ground. 

Varric sat at the head of his table, and replied, “Heard a few whispers about a debt. But I think the gang is trying to force Eiger into doing something. And the big guys refuse to fight back.”

“Hmm,” Hawke said and he began to think deeply. Varric knew that face; Hawke was going to throw himself into someone else problems again. 

“So how are you, like being free of servitude?” Varric asked, hoping to distract the lad long enough for him to forget his plans. 

“Boring, and pennyless. If this keeps up I might go back to Athenril to get some paying jobs for once.” Hawke replied, trailing off.

“I hear a but in that sentence.” 

Hawke waved his hands animated, “I want to get out of Dark Town more. I need to set up a better base for the children away from the toxic fumes. So I need clean money. But I’m not sure how I’m going to do that.”

Varric plastered his fingers together, “How about you start working as a messenger?  
”  
“A messenger?”

“You already know all the back ways of Kirkwall, and have an internal map of the city. You could easily run deliveries all over Kirkwall,” Varric said seeing Hawke thinking about it. “You could offer your services to those who don’t want their messages known. It allows you access to information to the shadier side of Kirkwall and secret dealing.”

Hawke smirked, “Which you would then have access to.”

“I would never ask such a thing,” Varric returned the smile. “Without payment that is.”

“This is a very good idea, Varric.” Hawke nodded. “ I assume that you would be willing to help me get started?”

“It’s a deal.” Varric confirmed. “But before we get started on that I have another request for you.”

Eiger chose that moment to delivery the meal Varric had asked for. He also brought a second platter which he placed in front of Hawke. Hawke gave it a questioning glance, but the large cook gestured at the food with an eager expression. Hawke tucked into the meal, and at the taste gave a moan of happiness. Hawke beamed at the cook, who nodded and left. Varric smirked at the exchange, seeing that this was how the cook was going to repaid Hawke’s kindness.

“Sure, what do you need?” Hawke asked between mouthfuls. 

“I hear you’re acquainted with the Grey Warden set up in Dark Town.”

“Anders? Yah, He’s teaching me to heal. So I help him in the Clinic when I am free.” Hawke said as he raised an eyebrow. “I’m assuming your asking because you need help getting in the Deep Roads?”

“Indeed. Bartrand can lead us to the right place once we’re down there. But we need a good entrance.” Varric explained pacing in front of the fireplace. 

“One that isn’t filled with Darkspawn.”

“And close to our destination,” Varric continued. “I heard Grey Warden’s have maps marking the ways into the Deep Roads. I was hoping . . . ”

“I’ll introduce you to Anders. But you’re going have to convince him to give you the maps. Anders hates the Deep Roads.” Hawke replied, waving his hand.

“Can’t fault him for that.” Varric gave a small smile. “Can I bring my partners along? They should be here any moment now, and this concerns them as much as it does me.”

“Your partners?” Hawke looked confused for a moment, then his eyes went wide. “The Twins? They’re coming here?” Hawke jumped up like he was hit with a spirit bolt, knocking over his chair. 

Varric gave Hawke a confused look. He had never seen the boy seem surprised or even afraid. He took being shot at with batting an eyelash, and killed men without an expression. But here Hawke seemed to be on the edge of panicking. 

Hawke picked up the chair, saying“I just remembered Anders needs me as soon as I was done here. I’ll mark where the Clinic is on your map.” Hawke stood up and went to the map of Kirkwall that Varric kept on his wall. He marked a section of Dark Town with a symbol, then he tugged his hands into his cloak sleeves. Varric recognized the sign as Hawke was readying himself to use magic. 

“Hawke are you alright?” Varric asked, coming to stand beside him. Varric didn’t know what to expect from a nervous Hawke. He had seen the lad calmly talk to the most ruthless cutthroats of Darktown.

Hawke eyes flicked back to him saying, “Fine, I’m fine. Just need to get going. I’ll meet you in the Clinic later.” He pulled up his hood to cover his face, shadowing his expression. 

A pair of footsteps echoed in the hallway from the open door, then Carver and Bethany Amell appeared in the door way. Varric felt the air tingled, as Hawke suddenly vanished from his side, to appear in the door behind the Amell’s. The Twin jumped at the sudden disappearance, searching for the figure. Varric brows’ met, even more confused by Hawke’s actions.

“Was he afraid of the Amell’s?” Varric wondered.

“Who was that?” Carver asked, gesturing down the hall.

“That was one of my informants.” Varric said vaguely. “Sorry about that. But he was in a bit of a rush.”

“Is he a mage? I’ve never seen someone use that type of magic without a staff before. He must be exceptionally skilled.” Bethany said with awe. 

“That he is. And he brought some good news. So have a seat and I’ll explain why I called you both here.” Varric said gesturing to the chairs. Bethany decided to pull up one of the larger stools to sit on. While Carver chose a piece of wall near the door to lean against. 

As Varric explained what they needed for the expedition his thought wandered. He had checked on the Amell’s backgrounds before approaching them about the partnership. The Amell’s were Fereldans that sought refuge in Kirkwall from the Blight. They had signed on with the Red Iron working in servitude as payment for their entrance into the city, much like Hawke. While they had gained some fame from their teamwork, Varric hadn’t heard as many rumors about them. And the one’s he did hear were never suspicious.

“At least the ones that didn’t involve their uncle. So what about them made Hawke nearly jump out of his skin at the mere mention of them.” Varric thought and stared hard at the siblings. 

Now that Varric takes a closer look at them he realizes why they looked so familiar to him when he first met them. They reminded him of Hawke. Until like many dwarves, Varric had learned how to tell the difference between humans. He had come to notice the various physical traits that humans seem to share.

So he began to count the similarities, “Black hair and pale skin, common not usual for human. All of them have blue eyes, though Carver and Bethany have a tint of brown around the iris, while Hawke has piercing blue eyes, almost a shade of grey. All have the same nose and ear shape.” The more the Varric compared them, the more sure he was that Hawke was related to the Amell’s.

Bethany broke his thoughts when she asked, “So what his name?”

“Who?” Varric blinked at her.

“You’re informant, the mage.”

“Why do you want to know?” Varric watched her reaction for lies.

Bethany shrugged, “I’ve never met another mage before. I wandering if I could get to know him.”

“I’m not sure about that. He a very private person. You know how it is living as an apostate in a city of Templars’.” Varric thought about his answer and said, “His name is Hawke.”

That caught both of their attentions, and Carver leaned forwards asking, “Hawke? Is that his family name?” 

Seeing no malice only curiosity Varric relaxed and said, “I’m not sure. It’s the only name he goes by. It could be a nickname though.” All of this being true as Varric didn’t know a lot about the young mage despite extensive searching. 

“Why do you ask? If you don’t mind my curiosity.”

“Our father’s name is Malcolm Hawke,” Carver replied seriously. The group made their way out of the Hanged Man but there was no sign of Hawke.

“But you call yourself Amell, why?” 

Carver looked stormy and Bethany answered instead, “Our father left us ten years ago and never returned.”

“Well that fits,” Varric thought getting a better picture of events. 

But before he could ask anything else Carver interrupted saying harshly, “Enough. Don’t we have a Grey Warden to meet? Lets go, get this done with so we can head off to Sundermount.” Bethany agreed and stood up. Varric had no choice but to drop the subject and follow them. 

 

The Amell’s and Varric walked into the Clinic to see Anders leaning over the form a young boy, casting a healing spell on him. His worried parent stood by the tables’ side watching him. Anders focused hard to get the young boy to breathe. When the boy gasped and sat up, his mother smiled with relief. Anders shagged with the effort of the spell, and leaned against the wall to catch his breath. Hawke was there offering a cup of water which Anders took gratefully. 

When Bethany and Carver approached, Anders turned on them with his staff raised, “I have made this place a sanctum of healing and salvation. Why do you threaten it?”

Hawke saw the blue light in Anders eyes and stepped between them, “Anders, it’s fine. They’re here with me.”

“Hawke, what’s this about?” Anders lowered the staff. Bethany and Carver shared a glance when they heard the name but Hawke had kept his hood up so they couldn’t see his face.

“This is Bethany and Carver Amell. They would like to speak to you about the Deeproads.” Hawke explained. “They know you’re a Grey Warden.”

“Was a Grey Warden, Hawke. I’ve left them remember.”

“Your still helping people. So you are a Grey Warden. You just don’t follow the Grey Warden’s orders,” Hawke replied with a shrug. Anders frowned at him, but it was an old argument, one that Hawke refused to back down from. “Anyway they’re just here to talk to you. ”

“We’re interested in getting into the Deeproads. Do you know a way?” Varric asked.

Bethany spoke up, “Any information you can give us could save lives.”

“We can make it worth your time.” Carver offered. 

Anders studied them silently, when Hawke nudged him, “They aren’t with the wardens. So you can trust them, at least for not turning you into the Warden’s or Templar’s. At least talk to them. You can use their help.”

Anders glanced down at Hawke studying him before nodding, “Very well. If Hawke say your trustworthy then I believe him. I could use some help for a task. So here’s my proposal; A favor for a favor. Sound like a fair deal?”

“What kind of favor? We don’t deal in blood magic or slavery.” Carver said harshly. Varric watched Hawke walk away and sit at a table by the fireplace. He began mixing herbs in a bowl while Anders explain the favor he needed. Varric only listened with half a ear mind still turning over the issue of Hawke behavior. Hawke was never one to turn down the chance of helping another out. So why was he sitting this chance out.

“Doesn’t fighting Templar’s just prove their point? They don’t need any more reason to hunt us.” Carver remarked, crossing his arms.

“Oh, Templar’s” Varric thought coming back to the conversation. 

“These are my terms. If you want my aid with your expedition then meet me outside the chantry tonight.” Anders stated firmly. 

Carver and Bethany shared a expression of agreement. They agreed upon a time meet and went to leave. But Varric stayed behind lingering beside the entrance of the Clinic.

Anders went over to the young mage, “Hawke, I need to go to the Chantry right away to keep watch for Karl. Can you stay here and watch the clinic for me?”

“Sure, Anders, sure.” Hawke replied half-heartedly  
.   
Anders narrowed his eyes at the boy, “Hawke, I mean it. Stay here and don’t follow me.”

Varric chuckled, thinking, “Clearly he knows Hawke well.”

Hawke looked up at the tone, “Anders, its fine. I won’t follow you. I’m not keen on going to any place with Templars’ in it. I’ll close up at midnight.”

Still unsure of Hawke answer Anders said, “Sunset. You need your rest. You can use the second cot in the back”

Hawke waved a dismissal, “Alright mother hen. Go save your friend.” 

Anders left Clinic with a glance back Hawke figure waving at him from the fire place. Then he turned and focused on the mission ahead missing Varric standing by the door. Varric glanced back inside, to see Hawke with that particular expression on his face. Hawke was deep in thought, making a decision. It was such a odd expression on a child because it made him look face older. Varric shut the clinic’s door and approached the dark hair boy.

“Hawke, we need to talk.” Varric said, making Hawke jolt out of his thoughts.

“Maker, Varric!” Hawke grabbed his chest huffing theatrically. “Are you trying to scare me to death?”

“Hawke . . . ” Varric said in serious tone.

Hawke glanced up and saw Varric serious face. His face turned grim and he leaned back in his chair. Hawke gestured at the other chair, “You better sit if your going to integrate me.”

Varric sat beside Hawke, angling the chair so he could watch Hawke. He spoke softly like he would to a skittish animal, “Hawke, you don’t have to answer anything you don’t want to. But I have to know. Is there something wrong with the Amell’s? Did they do something to you?”

Hawke looked at him startled, “No, of course not. They’re a great pair, and you couldn’t have hope for better in this city at the moment. Why?”

Varric raised his eyebrow, “Because you disappeared as soon as you saw them.”

“Yes that was a bit of an intense reaction, wasn’t it.” Hawke rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. 

“Hawke, why don’t you want to meet the Amell’s?” 

Hawke glanced away, stiff in his chair, eyes searching for an answer. So Varric asked before Hawke could think up a lie, “Is it because you’re related to them?”

The young mage looked at him in surprise before leaning back into his chair, “I guess anyone with a pair of eyes could see the similarities. I’ve always been told how much I look like my father.”

“Do they know?”

“No!” Hawke said loudly, shaking his head.

“Why? Are you afraid of what their reaction might be? That they will reject you because you’re a bastard child?”

Hawke stared at his feet as he said, “I’m just a stranger to them.”

“Hawke, the Amell’s aren’t heartless. They’d be willing to bring them into their home.”

“Then what?” Hawke looked up and met Varric gaze.

“What do you mean?”

“The Amell’s can barely support themselves. I’d just be another burden, another belly to feed and another bed to make.”

Varric shouldn’t have been surprised by Hawke concerns, “They’d work around it.”

“And what about the risk?” Hawke asked sharply. “I’m a Templar target, and I’d be exposed in Lowtown. And if I’m discovered I’d be a risk to Bethany as well.”

“Caver and Bethany can protect you. They are becoming skilled fighters.” Varric pointed out. 

“The reason they are on this expedition is because they need money to keep the Templar’s away. Why would I want to be a burden to them?” Hawke snapped.

Varric leaned back considering his arguments, “Because you are a child and you have a chance at a loving family. The other kids in the Pit don’t get this chance.”

“I’m not a normal child.”

“No, you’re not. And even if you were an adult, I’d still say the same thing. Not many people have an accepting family.”

Hawke went silent and looked away, “It’s better this way.”

“How do you know if you’ve never tried,” Varric remembered his own mother words about trying to have a better relation with Bartrand. 

“I do know,” Hawke said cryptically. There was a long silence between them, filled by the crackling of the fire. Varric studied Hawke and Hawke was lost in his own thoughts.

“Now tell me the real reason you are afraid of the Amell’s meeting you.”

Hawke flinched like he was shocked, and glanced at Varric.

“You can trust me, Hawke. I’m not going to do anything that might hurt you.” Varric said gently.

“I know. I’ve known for a long time, Varric.” Hawke rubbed the back of his neck and stared into the fire. “I’m terrified of having a family. Of sharing a bond with caring people only . . . ”

“Only?”

“Only to have it tore away from me.”

Varric blinked in surprise and Hawke continued, “I couldn’t deal with it. That emptiness inside where the warmth used to be. To hear echoing memories and realize that all it going to be. No! I couldn’t do it again.” Hawke slammed his face in his hands.

“Oh, Hawke.” Varric breathed. “This is a fear everyone has. The future isn’t written in the stones. They won’t die so easily.”

“You don’t know how long they will live.” Hawke snapped, “What about this expedition? How do I know that they will return? That neither of them won’ get killed by an ogre or die of the Blight?” There was such certainty in his voice, Varric wasn’t sure Hawke hadn’t seen such deaths before. 

Hawke brought his knees to his chest, “And what about me.”

“You?”

“I lead a dangerous life, Varric. I could just as easily be killed one day. Or just simply vanish.” Hawke admitted.

“Now that’s a thought that will haunt my nightmares,” Varric thought, then said. “You could try having a childhood. You are entitled to one.”

“Varric, I’m a mage. My days of innocence disappeared when I discovered my magic. After that it was studying how to control my magic and how to defend myself.” Hawke explained with a soft voice. “No, I couldn’t do that to the Amell’s.”

“So you will deny yourself the love of a family to protect them.” Varric said sadly, but he knew it was a losing battle. Hawke had clearly thought long and hard about this issue. Suddenly Varric found Hawke’s piercing gaze staring into his eyes. 

“There are other types of kindness and caring in the world. Like the companionship of your friends. I couldn’t live without that.” Hawke said honestly. 

Varric was stunned by his words, “Hawke, I . . . ”

“I’d be lost without you, Aveline, Anders and the children.” Hawke said, relaxing into the chair. “I once thought I could go it alone, but I was just spinning into a dark void of depression. It took a small hand to remind me that I don’t have to be alone. I can face the darkness because I know that when I turn around there will be light.”

“That was . . . poetic, Hawke.” Varric breathed again.

Hawke gave him a small smile, “I may not be able to spin words like you do but I do have moments of inspiration.”

“If you had some practice, I’m sure, you’ll outshine me. I don’t know what I would do with the competition,” Varric joked, and Hawke’s smile grew. There was a moment of silence but it was a good one, without any tension.

“Are you sure about this?” Varric had to ask.

“Yes,” Hawke nodded. “If they ever ask, just tell them I use a nickname.”

“But Hawke is really your name?”

“My name is Garret Hawke.”

Varric was warmed by the trust Hawke had in him, and said, “Hmm, Rather a plain name, isn’t it. Hawke has a better ring to it.”

“I think so to.” Hawke replied still smiling. 

“I’d better get going. I agreed to meet Carver and Bethany at the Chantry.” Varric stood up and strapped Bianca to his back.

“Go kill some Templars.” Hawke waved, “And try not to let Anders scare you away.”

“I know you, Hawke. You’re the scariest thing around.” Varric said and left the clinic.

 

The party return’s to the Clinic after a disastrous attempt at trying to free the former grey Wardens’ mage friend. All of them were exhausted after the long fight with the Templar’s and the emotional low of having to kill the tranquil mage. Anders slammed open the doors and strode in. 

Carver followed Anders with a deep scowl and said, “Is this the part where you tell us that you’re an abomination?”

Anders turned to him, saying softly, “Your wrong. But not far wrong. I...this is hard to explain.”

“Then just start at the beginning.” Bethany prompted him. “How are you possessed but keep your soul?  
”  
“I met a spirit of justice who was trapped outside the fade. Such spirits aren’t like demons and are very rarely encountered. To live he needed a host. I offered to help him . . . ” Anders began to explain. “But I guess I had too much anger. Once inside me, he changed . . . ”

“Inside you? You’re harboring a demon?” Carver snapped, placing himself between Anders and Bethany. 

“Carver! Will you just listen. He just said a spirit of justice.” Bethany said to her brother. 

“Then what was that outburst? That didn’t look benevolent spirit. He looked more like a monster,” Carver words were harsh and Anders flinched.

“I changed him. In my anger against Templars, against injustice of mages, he changed. And he is no longer my friend Justice but a spirit of Vengeance. And he has no concept of mercy.”

“Can you control it?” Bethany asked. “Bring him out at will?”

“No he only comes out when I have lost all control over myself.” Anders ducked his head looking sad. “It’s a madness. A frenzy. I only find afterward what I might have done.”

“That it I heard enough,” Carver said, grabbing Bethany. “Come on, Beth. We are leaving.”

Bethany pulled her arm out of his grasp, “No. He is not a monster. I won’t have you pulling me around. He the first mage I’ve met. I’d want to ask him some more question.”

“No! This was dangerous enough.” Carver shouted and Bethany opened her mouth to shout back.

“Enough!”a clear young voice rang out across the room. All of them turn to see young Hawke standing in the door way in a big white night shirt that nearly slid over his shoulders. Hawke rubbed his eyes of sleep and glared fiercely at the adults.

“No, fighting! What are you children?” Hawke reprimanded. “Open your eyes the two of you. Anders might be dangerous but I have yet to see him hurt an innocent person. He has been helping people in Dark Town without a fee. Can you say as much? He is a noble man and worth your respect. Use your head before you judge someone.”

All of them gave Hawke a stunned look, and Varric was first to break the silence with a chuckle. “You heard Hawke. Now say you’re sorry and lets get our maps.”

Carver frowned but apologized, and Bethany nudged his arm. Anders handed over the maps with a thank you and an offer to help. Hawke rubbed his eyes sleepily, and yawned in the doorway.

Anders when over to Hawke, saying, “Sorry, we woke you.”

“It’s fine. He was just being stubborn.” Hawke waved at the departing Twins. That was when Anders noticed the bandage on Hawke hand. 

“Hawke, what happened?” Anders took the hand, and began a healing spell.

“Nothing. Just a couple of thug coming after me for revenge.” Hawke said with a dismissive tone. When he saw Anders outrage, Hawke waved him away. “Anders it’s nothing, really. I was too tired to heal it so I just rapped it. It’ll be healed by the morning.”

“Who was it? Did they attack you here?” Anders growled, standing tall gripping his staff. Hawke saw a flash of blue light in Anders eyes and elbowed him. Anders doubled over breath knocked out of him and coming back to his senses.

“It’s fine, Anders. I’ll deal with them tomorrow.” Hawke said firmly. Then he covered his mouth as he yawned heavily. “I’m going to bed.”

Varric watched Hawke enter the back room with Anders following behind still arguing. Varric shock his head and closed the clinic door. 

“The strangest creature. But also the most amazing.” Varric thought to himself as he walked away. “Looks like I need to call in some favors to deal with the Sharps Highwaymen.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know a bit boring but I had to be done. Honestly I was debating if this chapter should be Aveline or Varric. Both really seem to care about Hawke. Or at least I think so. The next chapter will be more exciting.   
> Good Day All!


	11. Fools Get Kidnaped

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Action and magic. Enjoy!

“Greetings, Varric! A message for you,” Hawke called as Varric looked up from his paperwork. “I’ve never seen you so deep in paperwork before. Getting tried of adventures?”

“Hawke, I'm a businessman. Now and then, I shoot people.” Varric replied sitting back in his chair, rubbing at the ink stains on his arm. “So who it’s from?”

Hawke leaned over and handed him the message, “The Dwarven Merchants' Guild. Galmold gave this invitation to me to hand directly to you, as all his other invitations go . . . missing .”

Varric covered his eyes, “Another Guild meeting.”

“What’s so bad about that?” Hawke sat in the chair opposite of his desk. 

“A Guild meeting is potentially more dangerous than walking into a room full of giant spiders. Each member had his own web of deals, and you best step carefully or you will get caught in them,” Varric described.

Hawke winched, “And no weapons allowed?”

“Oh, they’re allowed. That’s what makes’ it so dangerous.” Varric reached out and took the message. “Look’s like I can’t avoid it.” 

“Sorry, Varric,” Hawke replied but gave a sly smile. “If you want, I can set fire to the build, and you can make your escape.”

“Ha! I knew there was a reason that I kept you around, Hawke.” Varric chuckled. “We’ll keep that as plan B.”

Hawke stood up and waved, “I’d best be off. Work to do, messages to run. You know how it is.” Varric waved back and turned back to his paperwork.

Hawke headed back to the tavern floor, avoiding the drunks and keeping his head low. He was about to duck inside the kitchen when he saw Isabella walk in. She stomped up to the bar and called for a drink. The pirate quickly down the drink, and frowned into the brown liquid. Hawke reached into his belt and pulled out the thick chained amulet.

Fingering it a moment, he strode toward the rouge. She didn’t notice Hawke’s presence when he stood right next to her, but Corff the Bartender eyed him. Hawke knew better than trying to touch the rouge unaware so he cleared his throat. Isabella turned around searching for the sound, missing Hawke entirely.

“Are you Captain Isabela of the ‘Siren Call’?” Hawke asked. Isabela jumped when she heard his voice by her elbow and looked startled at Hawke.

Isabela forced herself to relax as she gave a half smile, saying, “Formerly Captain Isabela seeing as my ship is at the bottom of the sea. May I ask what a sweet laddie is doing here?” 

“Such flattery. I’m Hawke, serah” he introduced himself with a half bow. He had learned to be formal during his deliveries made people easier to deal with.“I have a delivery for you.” 

Hawke handed her the amulet. She took it with a curious expression then examined it. Upon seeing the amulet Isabela hands began to tremble, and she clamped her hands behind her back to hide her reaction.

She looked at Hawke sharply, “How did you get this?”

“A dying sailor gave it to me to delivery to you. I also have a message for you.” Hawke said. “Green Eye says, ‘It was a night never meant to last.’”

Isabela sagged against the bar, catching herself in time, “And you said he was dying. Is he . . . ?”

Hawke nodded sadly, “He died the morning after the storm. He asked to be buried with his lady love.”

“The sea. Maker, Green Eyes.” Isabela rubbed her eyes but Hawke didn’t see any tears. He knew Isabella would mourn in her own way later on. She took a deep gulp of her ale, and swallowed her sorrow. 

“I’m sorry.” Hawke said, and Isabela turned remembering him. She found sad blue eyes staring at her that seem to look right through her. She was unnerved but dismissed the feeling.

She smiled sweetly down at him, “Thank you, deary. How much do I owe you?”

“You owe us first, Isabela,” Lucky appeared and strode up to Isabela, with two armed thugs surrounding her and Hawke. 

“Well, Lucky. I’ll tell you what. Since the information you gave me was worth nothing,” Isabela waved her empty cup at him. “That’s what I’ll pay you.”

“Me and my boys will get our money’s worth. Bitch.” Lucky snapped, grabbing Isabela’s arm trying to stare her down. Isabela rolled her eye’s unimpressed. 

She mocked him, and in a flash had his head in her hands slamming it into the bar. Hawke stepped out of the way as a grey-haired man grabbed Isabela from behind. Hawke watched her bash the thugs, knowing she could handle herself. So Hawke didn’t notice Lucky get up behind him until he had his sword at his throat.

“Don’t move Isabela or your boy get’s it,” Lucky threatened, hand shaking on Hawke shoulder. Isabela stood still, hands reaching for her daggers. 

“Drop your weapons. And give me all your money, wench.” Lucky demanded, tightening his grip on Hawke shoulder. Isabela eyes were cold and calculating as she watched Lucky making him swallow hard. Isabela took her blades out, holding them in her finger tips, as she dropped them. Hawke sighed dramatically and grabbed his capture’s hand. Hawke sent a bolt of lightening up Lucky’s arm making his body convulse. Lucky drooped to the floor, twitching as he clutched his arm. 

Hawke knelt down next to Lucky’s head, and said, “Really Lucky? Taking a child hostage and threatening them. That’s low even for you.” Hawke patted his cheeks hard to keep him awake. 

Then his eyes turned cold, “Try that again and you will find yourself face down in Darktown.”

Lucky looked at Hawke in wide eye horror, his breath coming out in ragged gasps. Hawke glanced at the two downed thugs, “Consider this a warning to you all. Now take him and go.” 

On shacking limbs, his thugs pulled Lucky up and carried him out of the tavern. Each of them nursing their own wounds. 

Isabela barked out a laugh and leaned against the bar, “Aren’t you full of surprises.”

Hawke shrugged and said, “You should have picked a better informant than Lucky.”

“Someone like you?” Isabela eyes wrinkled in amusement.

“Nah. I know things but I’m no informant. I’m a messenger. I make deliveries.”

“And you delivered Green Eye’s necklace to me,” Isabela fingered the chain links. “How can I replay you?”

Hawke shook his head and said, “I don’t need payment for completing a dying man last wish. I only wish I could have saved him.”

“You were there when he died?”

“Yes,” Hawke looked away sadly, remembering the sailor’s eye’s. 

“I’m so glad he didn’t die alone.” Isabela stared into her drink, lost in her own memories. “Thank you, my lad. Thank you for this.” 

Isabela knelt down and grabbed his shoulders. Startled by the sudden contact, Hawke stiffened then relaxed. She stared deep into his eyes studying him.

“Anything you want I will do it for you, deary. Anything at all.” Isabela said seriously.

Hawke gave her a soft smile, “First, you can stop calling me pet names. My name is Hawke. And didn’t I say I didn’t need a payment.”

“I don’t like owing people debts.” Isabella replied frowning.

“Then you can support my business. Deliveries cost five coopers for packages. Small parcels; three coopers. A silver for an arm load. Two coopers for a letter, and five for verbal messages.” Hawke explained ticking off numbers on his fingers. Varric had explained the prices to him, and that with lower rates than the city messengers he would get more business from the lower city.

“A businessman . . . or a business lad.” Isabella smirked, which Hawke returned. 

“We all need to eat,” Hawke replied with a shrug.

“Very well. I need to arrange a duel with a bastard named Hayder. Can you take this letter of challenge to him?” She said as she handed him a folded parchment. “He should be in the Hightown tavern, drinking expensive wine like he could afford it.”

“A duel?” Hawke asked taking the parchment.

“I like duels. It’s what I do.” Isabela said with a chuckle.

“I bet.” Hawke replied. “Well, consider it done. Two cooper, please.” He held out his hand and Isabella put two silvers in it. Hawke pondered a moment if he was going to say anything. But he decided to accept the gift. He’d buy some pastries for the kids with it. 

“I’ll be here when you return with his answer.” Isabela replied and waving at him. Hawke nodded and pulled up his hood as he ducked into the kitchen then out into the alley. 

 

Hayder was easy to find, he was right where Isabela said he would be. But the high paying noble tavern wasn’t about to let him a ‘street rat’ to pass its entrance was, so he passed the letter to barmaid. He stood outside the back of the tavern with his back to the wall, half hiding in shadows. After nearly twenty minutes past, Hawke was fully bored and was playing with his knife. He blamed his child body for having too much energy but Hawke knew he never had much patience. 

“Why does it take so long to write a return message? I know he stupid but is he also illiterate.” Hawke thoughts wandered.

Then the bar maid open the side door and called for him. Hawke detached himself from the wall and strode up to her. She looked down her nose at him, with a sneer, but Hawke ignored it and held out his hand.

“They want you inside,” she gestured into the tavern.

Hawke’s brow frowned, “Why?”

“They wanted to give you a verbal message,” she replied and she crossed her arms. “Hands in your pockets. I won’t stand for anything being stolen. Do you hear me?”

Hawke had to repress his eye rolled, and merely said, “Yes, serah.”

“Good. Now follow me.” She strode into the tavern calling. “Hands in your pockets!”

Hawke pulled his hands into his sleeves, and followed meekly. As Hawke passed a table, he used his magic and pulled a polished silver spoon off it using his magic. He hid a smug grin, as the barmaid didn’t notice when she glanced back at him. She leads him up stairs to several closed rooms. 

She open the third door on the right and called inside. She held it open and pushed Hawke inside before closing it. Hayder sat in a wooden chair facing the door, a wine cup dangled in his fingers. Two armed mercenaries stood at to his left with their face uncovered. Hawke felt his hands twitch with the sense of danger in the room. He kept his hands hidden, ready to use his magic at a moment notice. 

“Come here.” Hayder commanded watching Hawke with hard eyes. Hawke stepped forward wearily but stopped an arm length away from the former pirate. 

“You were the one who delivered this?” Hayder asked gesturing at the letter on the table. 

“Yes, serah,” Hawke said meekly deciding to play the fool.

“What is your connection to Isabela of the ‘Siren’s Call’?” 

“She a customer. I deliver messages.” Hawke replied. “Do you have a return message for me to deliver?”

“That’s not what I heard,” Hayder leaned forward. “I shouldn’t be surprised that whore birthed a child. Though you look nothing like her.” 

Surprise crossed Hawke expression, then he noticed Lucky sitting battered in the corner furthest from him. Hawke stepped back and began to summon his magic when he felt a pin prick on his neck. Hawke pulled out the needle seeing it coated in a green liquid. 

“Poison.” Hawke breathed, and felt is legs get shaky. He caught himself against the wall. The two mercenaries approached him and Hawke summoned fire to his hand. But as his vision became blurred, he couldn’t focus on a target, and his shot hit the wall. 

“Well, I heard from Lucky you had magic. But I didn’t believe him.” Hayder voice sounds distant to Hawke. Hawke fell to his knees, losing his focus on his magic. The fall to the floor felt long to Hawke. 

“You are going to be insurance against Isabela, boy.” Hayder explained. “After that you you’ll be sold into slavery. That’ll be irony for Isabela. A pretty lad like you ...” Hawke couldn’t hear anything as darkness consumed him.

 

Hawke awoke to the pain of his wrist and shoulders. It only took him a moment to realize that he was up right, hands bound over his head. Hawke kept his eyes shut, wanting to go back into blessed unconsciousness. He groaned as his brain bounded against his skull. Voices, too loud for his liking echoed around him. 

“That fool of a woman thought she could just kill me and end her debt.” Hayder voice echoed the loudest.

Hawke decided that he needed to find out where he was. His neck was stiff but he looked up to see the image of Andraste staring down at him. The row of statues lined up in front of him along the red carpet leading to the entrance. Hawke dangled with his arms above his head, centered in the sun of the chantry flag bellow the dias where everyone could see him.

“And shot me,” Hawke realized. “Even with my magic I won’t be able to escape for this easily.”

Then he noticed four armed guards in the corners of his vision. They were armed rouges with a pair of bows between them leaning against the banister on each side of the chantry. All of them had their faces covered so he couldn’t tell if they were the same men as before. One lazily glanced at Hawke while the other stared down at the scene bellow. 

“I don’t care if it cost us more to get a bunch of street thugs to attack her, I want her dead or at least weakened before she gets her. You don’t realize how dangerous she is. Hawke snorted, he realized that Hayder knew his enemy but wasn’t smart enough to deal with her. 

“But then again, I’m not much better because I got captured by this fool,” Hawke thought miserably.

As effects of the drugs began to ease, Hawke took deep breaths in hope of relieving the pain of his head. Even if his hands were free, he couldn’t concentrate well enough to use his magic.

Hayder noticed Hawke stirring and turned to him saying, “Good, you’re awake. The stage is set. She won’t be able to escape this time. She will pay her debt one way or another.”

The chantry side door open so gently that nobody but Hawke noticed. A tired and very unhappy Sebastian walks in. He wore his black robes with a strung bow strapped to his back. Sebastian froze when he saw several armed men in the chantry. But his surprise turned to anger when he saw Hawke hung and tied. Hawke was even more surprised than Hayder at his appearance. 

“Andraste's flaming ass! Who are you?” Hayder snarled.

Sebastian reached for his bow and said, “That is my question. Who are you and why do you desecrate this holy sanctum with your sins?” 

“I have no reason to answer you, chantry bastard. You have interrupted my plan. Put down your weapon.” Hayder command echoed loud. 

Hayder’s archers raised their own bows, and two targeted Sebastian the other two targeted Hawke. Hawke realized that the archer’s reaction was planned, and while this wasn’t Isabella, it would still work against Sebastian.

“Then why don’t you answer me?” Isabela voice was accompanied by her appearance at the chantry entrance. She strode in with an ease stride but Hawke saw her scowl and knew she hid her rage. Aveline stood at her side, face hard and stormy with outrage. 

“Isabela, about time you got here.”

“I was slowed by those thugs you hired to kill me. But that wasn’t really your plan now was it,” Isabela said hands on her hips. She gave dismissive hand gesture at Hayder. “Impressive set up. But you really should do your research better if you want to threaten me.”

“Don’t act like you don’t care about this brat,” Hayder gestured with his hand and an arrow struck the wall just left of Hawke. Hawke flinched as the impact scattered pieces of stone at him but didn’t utter a sound. Isabela and Aveline stilled their movements and watched wearily. 

“He’s a brave lad, hasn’t made a noise since he woke up. Waiting for his mommy to save him. ” Hayder mocked with a chuckle. “Now, where’s the relic?”

“I lost it.” Isabela replied flatly. “Castillon’s just going to have to do without.”

Hayder gestured with his hands disbelief, “Lost it? Just like you ‘lost’ a ship full of valuable cargo.”

“They weren’t cargo, Hayder, they were people.”

“Those slaves were worth a hundred sovereigns a head, and you just let them scurry off into the Wilds.” Hayder shook his head in disbelieve. “And now the Relic gone, too. Castillon won’t be happy to hear that. Neither is your lad.” 

Hawke flinched at his tone and tired wiggling his hands to get a barrier set up. Hayder drew his sword, pointing at Hawke, “Either you find that Relic or your brat gets used as a pin cushion.”

Isabela tilted her body to the side, “Really, Hayder you should learn who your threatening.”  
She threw her dagger head over head past Hayder striking the rope holding Hawke up. Hawke had readied himself when he saw Isabela coil tight, but he still had to keep his balance when he hit the ground. He jumped to the side expecting arrows coming at him. When they didn’t, Hawke looked up to find the archers being attacked by Anders and Varric. They had snuck in while Isabela distracted Hayder. 

Hayder snarled and drew his great sword. Aveline charged forward with her shield raised to meet his attack. Sebastian had raised his own bow to strike at the archers backside Hawke wrestled with the binding to his wrist, when he felt killing intent at his back. Hawke used the oldest and easiest spell he knew that didn’t need his focus to complete. His mind blast knocked the assassin back against the staircase.

The binds on Hawke wrists broke, and Hawke turned snarling at the assassin. His head ached and hampered his control on his magic. The fire in his hands burned and grew uncontrolled along his arms. Hawke could see the assassin eyes widen, as Hawke pointed a finger at him, fires reflecting in his eyes. It was a moment of stillness as Hawke directed his magic toward the elf assassin. Hawke knew he would watch this elf die while staring into his dark eyes.

A cry of pain distracted Hawke and he turned to see Aveline being overwhelmed by Hayder heavy attacks. Hawke directed his fire blast at Hayder back. Hayder screamed in pain as the fire consumed his back, his armor becoming hot enough to burn him. Aveline steadied her stance and continued her attack. 

Hawke heard the scraping of steel and had enough notice to raise his barrier. The assassins’ blade slides across the magical barrier, and the assassin jumped back before Hawke could counter. Hawke and the assassin studied each other, as Hawke reached into his belt to grab his broken staff. He raised it in front of him to blast fire at the assassin. Trapped in the staircase the assassin had no but to jump back wards onto the landing, where Hawke had laid an ice rune. As soon as the assassin touched the rune ice crawled up his body until his neck. 

The threat neutralized for the moment Hawke directed a stone fist at an archer with had dropped his bow and was using a knife to attack Varric. The attacker was knocked down and Varric but a bolt in his head. Varric nodded his thanks and directed his attack to Hayder. 

The former pirate was the last man standing and was being beaten by the combined attacks of the companions. Isabela manages to get behind him and cut his head off with a quick slice. Hayder body fell bleeding to the ground, and stained the chantry carpet. Hawke sagged to the ground with relief, clutched his head which still throbbed.

Anders reached him first took Hawke’s head and looked into his eyes, “Where does it hurt?”

Hawke weakly pushed Anders hands away, saying, “Just a headache, Anders. I was drugged, and I’m still getting over the effects.”

“Drugged! And you still used your magic. Hawke that extremely dangerous. What if your magic went out of control? You could have hurt yourself.” Anders scolded.

“It was fine, Anders. I had my staff for focus.” Hawke replied, waving his broken staff head. Anders rolled his eyes, but didn’t argue. 

“I don’t think anything about this was fine, Hawke.” Varric stated with a frown. “How did you get yourself drugged?”

Hawke shrugged, “By being a fool. I went alone into his room to get a verbal message to deliver to Isabela. Got hit by a poison needle from behind.”

“You should have known better, Hawke,” Varric scolded and Hawke nodded sadly. 

“What I want to know is why you kidnaped in the first place?” Aveline turned to confront Isabela. “What is the relic?”

Isabela looked uncertain and replied, “I don’t know what it is, except that its ancient and worth my weight in gold. Castillon has me chasing it down as payment for freeing his slaves.”

“So why bring Hawke into this?” Anders snapped. 

Hawke stilled Anders with a hand on his arm, “I was just suppose to be delivering a challenge for a duel for Isabela. Nothing more, nothing less. Except Lucky informed him about how Isabela defended me in the Hanged Man. Hayder thought to use me against Isabela. Though I don’t know why he thought, I was her son.”

“Lucky, wait till I get on him. He’s not going to be able to find his balls afterwards.” Isabela threatens with a smirk.

“Not unless I find him first.” Aveline smacked her fist.

“Ladies, allow me to find him for you,” Varric offered but Hawke could see a cold glint in his eye.

“Who’s Lucky? I want a shot at him.” Anders asked.

Hawke held up his hands, “Hold on. I told him I come after him if he tried anything. He’s mine.”

“No!” the adults shouted at him. Hawke crossed his arms in a stubborn act most of them recognized. 

“Then it’s a competition who can get to Lucky first.” Varric said with a smirk. “Then we’ll see how lucky he really is.”

Sebastian’s chuckle drew the attention of the group to him, “I don’t know who this Lucky person is but he will get justice for endangering a child. May the Maker guide your hands. ” Sebastian prayer made most of the group share a uncertain glance.

Hawke when over to Sebastian and held out his hand, “I thank you, brother for your aid in this matter. My name is Hawke.”

“Sebastian Vael.” He said taking Hawke hand with a smile adults gave child when they did something grown up.

“But I am sorry it interrupted your vigil.” Hawke said. 

Sebastian dropped his hand startled, “How did you know about that?”

Hawke gestured at his clothes, “Your morning someone. A death that happened recently. The shadows under your eyes show several sleepless nights. So not a prayer for the dead because that lasts only one night. You are carrying a bow which shows your contemplating a decision. Most likely if you should go after the killer and break your vows.” 

Sebastian eyes widen and his hand twitched to his bow. Isabela also looked uncomfortable, as she watched the young boy. Anders smiled knowing the remembering his first reaction to Hawke. Aveline was still watching Isabela and her actions.

Varric chuckled, “Hawke slow down, your scaring the poor normal people.”

Hawke looked up into Sebastian eyes, “Sorry, I just wanted to offer my aid in payment for your help tonight. I’d be willing to kill them for you.”

Sebastian stepped back even more shocked at what Hawke was offering, “What no! I could never ask that of a child.”

Hawke repressed a sigh, and bowed his head, “Well, I wouldn’t go after them personally. I know a couple of warriors that could easily deal with them. But anyway think about it. In the mean time you have my services for free.”

“Services?” Sebastian questions.

“I’m a messenger. Have a delivery any where in the city and I do it.” Hawke watched Sebastian relax.

“Now, Isabela. About that relic I’ll help you find it.” Hawke returned his attention to the pirate. 

Caught of guard by the sudden return to topic, Isabela blinked, “What?”

“The relic. I’ll help you retrieve it. I don’t want this Castillon coming after me when he comes for you.” Hawke repeated. 

“I’m not letting anyone come after you.” Aveline stated firmly.

“Who’s this Castillon?” Anders asked with concern.

“He’s a powerful merchant based in Antiva. I believe he has ties to the Felishima Armada.”

“Worst kind of merchant then,” Varric said dryly. 

“I still want to keep him away from Kirkwall. So the sooner we find the relic the better,” Hawke said as he thought. “The sooner I can get the Qunari out of Kirkwall the better.”

“I still don’t know where it is but you’ll be the first to know if I hear anything,” Isabela promised. 

Hawke nodded and waved to them, “You can find me in the Bazar. I’m off.” He strode toward the door, Aveline and Anders at his heels.

“Hawke, I’m taking you into protective custody if I hear anything about this Castillon coming to the city,” Aveline promised. "I'm taking you home."

“Aveline the Pit is perfectly safe. I’ll be fine.” Hawke tried to reassure her. 

“I’m still escorting you back. No arguments.” 

Anders interrupted Hawke as he said, “He’s coming back to the clinic so I can watch him for side effects of the drug used on him. No arguments.”

Hawke threw up his hands in surrender and when willingly with his friends. Varric chuckled loudly and followed at their heels. Those left behind watched in amusement and bewilderment. Sebastian bowed and went back to the prayer room. His thoughts even more confused than before.

Isabela’s own words echoed in her head, “You don’t know who your threatening. Neither do I.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's my birthday so I up loaded my next chapter. Hope you enjoy it. I like rewriting them.  
> Good Day to you All!


	12. New Bait

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meeting Merrill and fighting with Fenris.

Dark clouds covered the sky in a blanket of grey and shadowed the city of Kirkwall. The dancing glows of the torches only made the shadows darker and more intense. The dark streets of Low Town were an esplanade for the criminals. Most of the residents in Low Town knew to stay indoors on such nights. If you didn’t, you had better have a way to protect yourself.

Hawke had chosen a roof top route to avoid the prowling dangers. But a pair of gang members had climbed onto the roof top and blocked his way. In the shadow of a broken door, Hawke watched the thugs movement with narrowed eyes. The thugs circled like vultures around their intended prey. Curious Hawke peered over the edge at the would be victim. 

He instantly recognized the dark green clothes and sharp pointed ears. Merrill was looking like a lost puppy searching the empty street. Hawke repressed the desire to groan and smack his forehead.

“No wonder Varric spent so much coin on Merrill’s protection,” Hawke thought. On soft feet he slid into another shadow and moved closer to the archers. They were too intent on their prey to notice Hawke as he stepped up behind them. 

“Bad form, boys,” Hawke said as he grabbed their arms shocking them both until they collapsed bonelessly to the roof. 

Their cries alerted the other thugs who looked up just in time to see a large piece of the roof detach itself from the building. The falling stones crushed each of them and killing them instantly. Purely by chance one of the thugs managed to escape being hit and not waiting to test his luck went screaming into the night. 

Seeing the sudden falling rocks, Merrill ran into a dead end alley. She made a frantic sound, and turned to go back the way she came. Hawke dropped down behind her with a thump and grunt from the impact. Merrill gasped and raised a glowing staff, shedding light across the alley. 

Hawke shielded his eyes from the burning glow as he said, “Put that away.”

“Who are you?” Merrill asked wearily. 

“Hawke,” he introduced himself, pulling back his hood to reveal his young face. “Now dispel before we are spotted.” 

“Oh!” Merrill eyes widen and she flicked her wrist, the staff light dimmed. “I’m sorry that was thoughtless of me. I’m new to the city and forget there are torches for a reason.”

“I can tell.” Hawke nearly rolled his eyes and asked, “Mer . . . miss elf. What are you doing so far from the Alienage?”

“Merrill, please,” she replied as her shoulders slumped. “I’m trying to find it actually.”

“Then I can take you there. It’s not safe to wander the streets alone.” 

“You can! Oh, thank you.” Merrill shouted joyously. “All these streets look the same to me. I didn’t know how I was going to get back. I was thinking of making camp until day break.”

“Shh . . . here come on,” Hawke grabbed her hand and led her out of the alley. “The way should be clear. I drove any threats away but they will return.”

“That was you making all that noise!”

“Yes,” Hawke answered without turning back waiting for the question.

Instead he got, “Do you live in the Alienage?”

“No.”

“Then how do you know where it is?”

“I have a friend who lives there,” Hawke answered honestly.

“Oh, friends are good. I don’t have any friends since I left my clan. Except maybe Carver and Bethany.” Merrill blabbed.

Hawke smirked, “By my count, that’s two friends. And I could be your friend, Merrill.”

“Can you? You’ll come and visit too?”

“Of course,” Hawke replied as they entered the Alienage. The hairs on the back of Hawke’s neck stood up in sign of danger. It was too quiet, and the gates had been left unlocked. 

“I’ll even introduce you to my friend. His mother was formerly Dalish. You’ll like her.” Hawke said quickly.

Before Merrill could comment he dragged her to the side and quickly knocked on Feynriel’s family door. The door opened a crack and Hawke pushed his way in, dragging Merrill with him. Feynriel stepped back, looking surprised. 

Hawke gave him a childish grin, “Evening, Feynriel! Let me introduce you to my new friend, Merrill. Merrill this is my friend, Feynriel. He’s a mage like us.” Both of them gave Hawke equally shocked expressions, before looking sheepishly at each other. 

Feynriel recovered first and held out his hand, “Any friend of Hawke is a friend of mine.” He was use to Hawke strange behavior, but he was suspicious of Hawke’s sudden child like words. He decided to play along until he could question Hawke.

Merrill shyly took his hand and replied, “Yes, we just met...”

“Feynriel, dear. Who’s at the door?” Feynriel’s mother called.

“Arianni! I have a friend who would like to meet you.” Hawke called back and pulled Merrill further into the house. Arianni stared at Merrill as she continued to stir a boiling pot in the fire place. 

“This is Merrill, she recently left the dalish to come live in Kirkwall. I thought since you were also dalish you could give her some tips and show her the city. She was lost when I found her.” Hawke introduced her, as the smell of the stew hit him. “That smells good.”

Merrill stepped up to stare into the pot, and asked, “Is that rabbit stew? Where did you find the ingredients?”Merrill began to talk in bits of dalish. Arianni slowly began to smile at Merrill enthusiasm and answered in dalish. 

Satisfied that Merrill would win Arianni over with her charm, Hawke went back to the door. He pushed it open a crack to watch a pair of elves pass by. Feynriel moved to stand beside him and leaned against the door frame, studying him.

“What was that about? Coming in here announcing I’m a mage. Didn’t you say I should be more careful?” Feynriel asked, “And isn’t that the new witch?”

“Mage, and yes she is. I thought she would benefit getting to know you and your mother. Seeing as you live across from each other.” Hawke replied as he continued to watch the courtyard. 

“All elves are neighbors to each other. Doesn’t mean we invite ourselves over.” 

“You don’t? I thought the elves were all about a close community. Seems like you need to be more welcoming.” Hawke commented with a half smile. “Anyway I just fought off several thugs from attacking her. So I brought her back.”

“Helping people again,” Feynriel sighed. “You know they say she does blood magic.”

“They say a lot of things.” Hawke replied, stressing the ‘they’. “They also say you have dirty blood, and that I’m a unnatural demon child.”

Hawke gave Feynriel a sharp look before continuing, “They can talk till their lips fall off. I make my own judgments about people. Remember that.”

Feynriel bowed his head and said, “Yes, Hawke.” Hawke reached up and patted his shoulder conveying that he wasn’t angry. 

In his thoughts, Feynriel said, “There's the normal Hawke.” Then he wondered why Hawke acting like a child made him uncomfortable. Seeing Hawke staring out the door again he asked, “ What is it?” 

“It’s too quiet. It smells of danger.”

“They say there’s going to be an ambush tonight.”

“Maybe they can be useful after all.” Hawke replied as he saw several armed men enter the alienage. “But an ambush for who?”

“I don’t know. But the Torres got their home taken for the ambush.”

“Fenris,” Hawke realized. “This is the baited trap set up by the slave hunters.”

He watched as the arms guard suddenly cut down a pair of elves that exited the baited house. Hawke knew their was too many for Fenris to fight alone and the Hawke party wasn’t there to help him.

“Maybe it still is,” Hawke thought and he opened the door wide. Feynriel hissed at him as Hawke marched up to the armed Hunters. Hawke fingered his broken staff, battle lust pumping in his veins as he summoned magic to his hands. 

The Hunters gave Hawke a unconcerned look and ordered him back into his home with a wave of their sword. Hawke gave him a pleasant smile and rained fire down on them. Caught off guard the other Hunters didn’t have time to defend themselves as Hawke turned on them. A series of lightning bolts streaked across the air, drawn to the metal of their weapons. A archer had the presence of mind to raise his bow and was struck by a spirit bolt. 

Feynriel stepped up beside Hawke, a plain staff held in his hands. Hawke gave him a wide grin and threw a flaming stone fist at another hunter. The hunters rushed the pair of mages trying to gain the advantage of close combat. Feynriel created a ice wall in front of the closing hunters. Hawke raised a barrier around them as arrows fell around them. Suddenly archers cried out in horror and dropped to the ground clutching their heads. Hawke glanced to the side to see Merrill had joined them, wielding her own flaming staff. 

In a triangle formation, the three of them destroyed the hunters. Blood stained the ground and Hawke had to lift his cloak to keep from getting blood on it. Hawke scanned the alienage knowing the fight wasn’t over. He could see the eyes of elves peering out of their windows, and would disappear when Hawke glanced at them. 

“Hawke!” Feynriel said in a loud whisper, as he grabbed Hawke’s arms. “What was that about?”

“They just killed two elves for no reason. I wasn’t going to stand aside and let that go unpunished.” Hawke replied brushing the half-elf off him.

“So they were bad men?” Merrill asked innocently. 

Feynriel blinked and gripped his staff hard, “It’s not like it was the first time a human killed an elf without cause.”

“I’m not going to let it happen on my watch.” Hawke said firmly. “Not today and not tomorrow. And neither should you.”

“What’s going on?” another Tevinter Hunter in fancy armor entered the Alienage. He saw them and his dead men then growled, “I don’t know who you are but you are going to regret this. Lieutenant, I want everyone in this clearing, now!”

A hunter stepped out, making a gurgling sound before collapsing to the ground. 

Fenris stepped out in his bare feet, voice snarling, “Your men are dead, and your trap has failed. I suggest running back to your master while you still can.” 

Hawke watched passively as the suicidal Hunter grabbed Fenris. Fenris roughly threw him off and raised his hand, tattoo’s glowing. He thrust his hand into the man’s chest and the Hunter gasped before falling backwards to the ground. 

“I am not a slave,” Fenris stated angrily. He stopped his descent down the stair when he saw the three of them standing there. Hawke was memorized by Fenris appearance. He hadn’t seen the elf in years even before he was sent back in time. 

“I apologize. When I asked Anso to provide a distraction for the hunters I had no idea they’d be so... young.” 

“We weren’t hired by Anso,” Hawke said striding up to Fenris with Feynriel and Merrill behind him. Both of them were unsure of what was going on and let Hawke lead.

“You weren’t? Then why...?”

“They had killed a couple of elves. We decided that they needed some punishment.” Hawke explain pointing over to the dead elves. Fenris nodded understanding what happened.

“Impressive,” Fenris eyed Hawke as the blue eyed boy stared back at him with fascination. “My name is Fenris. These men were Imperial bounty hunters seeking to recover a magister’s lost property, namely myself. They were trying to lure me into the open. Crude as their methods were, I could not face them alone. So I thank you for your intervention.”

“I thought all elves were free,” Merrill asked.

“Not in the Tevinter Imperium. Many are slaves to the Magistrates, not just elves.” 

“But you are in the Free Marches and they are still coming after you? That's a lot of work for one slave.” Feynriel commented.

“It’s because of his markings,” Hawke answered without thinking, and when Fenris looked startled he added. “Right?”

Fenris chuckled, “Yes, I image I must look rather strange to you. I did not receive these markings by choice. Even so they have served me well. Without them I would still be a slave.”

Hawke nodded, and said, “Slavers deserve their fate.”

“I have met few in my travels who have sought anything more than personal gain,” Fenris bowed his head. “You honor me with your deeds. But allow me to reward your actions.”

Fenris placed a couple of coins in each of their hands. He turned his back to them and began searching the dead man pockets. Hawke watched patiently for what he knew was going to happen.

“Come on, Hawke,” Feynriel tugged at Hawke’s sleeve, but Hawke ignored him.

Fenris snarled, “As I thought!” He charged out of the Alienage, with Hawke following behind. Hawke felt a rush of adrenaline. This felt so right to him, the way thing were supposed to be. Fenris heard the echo of their foot steps and turned to see them following.

“What are you doing?” Fenris directed the question at Hawke.

Hawke gave him a confident grin, saying, “Helping.”

“I appreciate what you did for me but I don’t need your aid anymore.” Fenris said firmly.

“Yes, you do. You are clearly heading into a fight.” Hawke said, arms crossed stubbornly. “Most likely to confront the man hunting you.”

“How do you...?”

“With so many hired hunters, any man would feel certain of success, and be waiting for your capture. Probably wanted to make sure you didn’t escape during transport.”

“He would, and I will have him instead,” Fenris confirmed darkly. He addressed Hawke, “But this isn’t a fight for a child. He will have demons at his side, I am certain.”

“Then I still want to help,” Hawke replied meeting Fenris gaze firmly. 

“This isn’t a game,” Fenris eyes flashed angrily, as he drew his great sword and smashed it into the stones in front of Hawke. The young boy hadn’t flinched, only stood there scowling at him. Fenris would have been more concerned if he wasn’t so preoccupied. 

“Go home to your mother, boy,” Fenris said as he sheathed his sword. Not waiting for Hawke's answer he ran off towards High Town. Hawke counted to ten before continuing to follow him.

Feynriel made a frustrated sound and grabbed his arm, “What are you doing?”

“I’m going to help him.”

“He told you to go home. He threatened you and your still going to help him.”

“Of course.”

“Of course,” Feynriel pinched his nose. “And you are going to go no mater what I say aren’t you.”

Hawke gave him a cheeky grin, “Your learning.”

“If we can, we must aid those who cannot help themselves,” Merrill spoke up. 

Hawke glanced at her, and replied, “True. A dalish saying?”

“Probably, but others could say it also.” Merrill replied with a smile that Hawke returned. 

“Let’s pick up Varric before we move on.”

“You know Varric?”

\-------

Varric walked out of the Hanged Man to find Hawke waiting with his mismatched group at his side. Merrill waved at him, while Feynriel continued to scowl at Hawke.

Hawke asked cheerfully, “Hey, Varric! Have any plans tonight?”

“What trouble are you getting yourself into this time?” Varric said as he joined them.

“Helping an escape slave with slavers,” Feynriel stated bluntly.

“He’s not a slave, and his name is Fenris,” Hawke glared sternly at the pouting youth.

Varric chuckled, “ Another one of your rescues?”

“Does he do that often?” Merrill asked curious.

“Too often,” Feynriel rolled his eyes.

“You make it sound like a bad habit,” Hawke said as he turned about began walking away. “Come on we have to catch Fenris before he goes charging in.” The other three followed him as he made his way towards High Town.  
“So do you know where he is?” Feynriel asked. “I don’t remember him ever saying where he was going.”

“No but I can guess.” Hawke gesture with his hands. “Slave masters who have enough money to buy and move a Slave Hunter band is going to be rich enough to own a mansion. We’ll figure out which one when we find Fenris. Or a lot of corpses.”

“Only you would see that as a good sign,” Varric commented.

\----------- 

The High Town were quiet when the group arrived. Hawke began to search for Fenris. Varric tapped his shoulder and pointed to a figure in the shadow of a pillar. Feynriel went to approach him but Hawke stopped him with a shake of his head.

“It’s not wise to sneak up on a elf that can plunge his hand into your chest,” Hawke told him, then called out to Fenris. The elf visibly flinched, reaching for his sword, and hesitated when he saw Hawke with his group.

“I thought I told you to go home,” Fenris glared at the blue eyed boy. 

“And I said I was going to help you,” Hawke replied firmly.

Before Fenris could argue Feynriel interrupted, “Just accept the aid. He’s going with you no matter what you say. He can be very stubborn. So save the rest of us a lecture.”

“And you’re going to let him?” Fenris said with disbelief.

“Trust us, Hawke can take care of himself.” Varric stated. “And it’s not just him helping you, but you get the rest of us as well. So that should even the odds nicely.”

“Very well, but you protect yourself. I will not be responsible for you.” Fenris pointed his finger at Hawke.

Hawke brushed it off and said, “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“Dararius may already know I am here. I wouldn’t put it past him.” Fenris glared at the mansion with wrath in his eyes. 

“Do you know if he has any defenses? What about traps?” Hawke asked, planning in his mind. 

“Undoubtedly, but they will not keep me from him.”

“I could stand to know who we are fighting?” Varric asked.

“He is a Magister of the Tevinter Imperium.”

“Oh, is that all? Nothing to worry about then.” Varric said sarcastically. 

Fenris clutched his hand, and said in a low voice, “There, he was a wealthy mage with great influence. Here, he is just a man that sweats like any other.” Feeling the rage in his belly Fenris could no longer wait and marched up to the mansion, with Hawke following at his heels.

“Shall we knock?”

Fenris kicked down the door, yelling, “Danarius, show yourself!”

“That works too”

Hawke grabbed Fenris wrist, stopping him from charging through the mansion, and said, “Traps remember. Let our handsome dwarf go first.”

“Since you asked so nicely,” Varric moved forward and disarmed the trap on the door. Varric held open the door and bowed Hawke through. 

Once in the room several shades materials around him. Hawke raised a barrier in time to deflect the claws of one of the shades. Within a single breath Hawke spun, flames shooting out from his hand striking the shade. Fenris charged forward cutting through the shades with ease. Fenris protected Varric and Merrill from the shades as they attacked from a distance. The shades dissipated leaving only the smelt of burnt wood lingering in the air. 

“He sends spirits to do his dirty work for him. Danarius can you hear me? Your pets cannot stop us!” Fenris yelled into the distance.

They encounters more shades in the smaller rooms but no sign of the mansion occupants. When they reached the main hall, Hawke readied himself for the swarm of shades. He drew his stone armor around him using the wall stones. As soon as Fenris stepped into the hall, the shades appeared all around them.

Hawke moved to the front lines to stand beside Fenris, wielding fire with his broken staff head, and the force of his magic. Fenris marveled how easy it was to fight with the young boy. Hawke seem to anticipate his movements and acted accordantly. When he drew his sword back for a large strike, and Hawke would paralyze a shade, to give him time to get the most power out of his strike. Fighting along side of Fenris was as easy a breathing for Hawke, and he loved the familiarity of it. 

The Arcane Horror that had been summoned focused on the tattooed elf. Fenris sword broke it flesh filling the air with a rotting smell. But the Horror wasn’t deterred and in a powerful attack knocked Fenris back against the wall, momentarily stunning him. The Arcane Horror descended on the defenseless warrior. 

Hawke fade stepped between the Horror and Fenris, raising his barrier. The Arcane Horror’s magic felt rotten to Hawke as it swept over his magical shield. The Arcane was only a arms length from the two of them. With movements that seemed slow, Fenris watched as Hawke reach out to touch the flames behind the barrier turning it blue. He manipulated the Arcane’s own magical flame turning it back against the Horror. The Arcane Horror screamed in rage and pain as it collapsed into a pile of ashes.

Fenris stared at Hawke who turned to look at him with concern, “You alright, Fenris?” Hawke lifted a blue glowing hand, casting healing magic. Fenris batted the hand away and stood up on his own. He charged you the staircase to the last set of rooms with Hawke not far behind. The door open effortlessly and stood empty before him.

“Empty,” Fenris said looking around. “I had hoped ... no it doesn’t matter any longer.” He sighed and his shoulders slumped as he glanced away. 

“I assume Danarius left valuables behind. Take them if you wish. I ... need some air.” Fenris strode away, not looking back. 

Hawke collected the loot and distributed it among the four of them. He gave Feynriel a new staff, which he instructed him to learn the two runes carved into the wood. Hawke only took a enchanted ring, though it didn’t fit on any of his fingers. The group made their way back through the battle torn mansion, and found Fenris waiting for them outside the entrance. 

“It never ends. I escape a land of dark magic only to have it hunt me down at every turn. It’s a plague burned into my flesh and my soul.” he said mournfully and turned to Hawke. “Now I find myself in the company of even more mages.”

Hawke crossed his arms as Fenris approached him saying, “I saw you casting spells inside. I should have realized sooner what you really were. No mere child wields the power that you do. What manner of being are you? Are you a demon in disguise? What is it you seek?”

Hawke felt a twinge of pain and replied, “I am not a demon.”

“Then how is it that you can wield magic on levels that I’ve only seen the strongest magister control.” Fenris remarked. “What kind of demon did you make a deal with?”

Ice flowed in Hawke’s veins and he clenched his teeth. People had accused him before of blood magic, but to hear it from Fenris a comrade he fought countless battles with and even loved was a stab in the heart. It hurt deep. 

“You think I wanted to be this way?” Hawke snapped, anger burning away the pain for the moment. “I’d never even be here if I had the choice.” Hawke shut his mouth hard almost saying what he swore he never would. 

Hawke turned away, trying to hide his feelings, “Forget it.” Hawke stepped away, not wanting to be any closer to Fenris for fear of revealing too much. Fenris caught his shoulder and Hawke looked up into Fenris soft silver eyes. 

“I imagine I appear ungrateful. If so, I apologize, for nothing could be further from truth,” Fenris bent down to look Hawke in the eye. “I owe you a debt. Should you need assistance, I would gladly render it.”

In that moment all the anger and self loathing melted out of him. Hawke gave Fenris a small smile, saying, “I’ll hold you to that.”

“Fair enough. I shall be here.” Fenris indicated the mansion. “If Danarius wishes his mansion back he is free to return and claim it.”

Hawke nodded and said, “If he does send word to the Hanged Man. Varric will know where to find me. I’ll stand your side in any battle against slavers.”

“Thank you.”

Without a another word, Hawke turned away with his companions with him. 

“Are you sure about this Hawke? A magister is dangerous foe.” Varric commented.

Hawke shrugged, and said, “He wouldn’t be the first dangerous foe I’ve had. I’ll survive.”  
He wondered why every magister he met seem to be out for his blood.

“I’m returning to the Pit,” he yawned deeply, his body tired and he stretched sore limbs. “Feynriel can you make sure Merrill get’s back to the Alienage safely.”

Feynriel loomed over Hawke and lifted the young boy over his shoulder, “You’re coming as well. You can sleep in my bed tonight.”

Hawke struggled in his arms, “Feynriel put me down this instant.”

“Only of you agree to come home with me,” the youth stated firmly.

“Hawke, you’re too tired to go tromping around Dark Town alone,” Varric commented. 

Hawke glared at him upside down until with a pout he nodded. Feynriel put him down and Hawke rubbed his eyes tired.

“Awe, so cute.” Merrill said happily, and before Hawke could comment grabbed his hand. “Lets go together.” Hawke laughed as Merrill dragged him off in the wrong direction, before Varric corrected her. Feynriel stayed by his side in case Hawke decided to go off on his own anyway. Surrounded by friends Hawke felt better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's all the companions introduced to Hawke. Adventure time!


	13. Whispering Demons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kelder back and Hawke is out to get him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the long wait. But I was working on some other ideas. Hope you enjoy this next chapter.

A growling stomach drove Fenris to leave the mansion. He had eaten everything left in the mansion except the wine. The wine cellar was stocked full and it would take him years to empty it alone. Fenris shielded his eyes from the glaring sun, and rumbled a curse. He fingered his coin purse thinking of which supplies he needed as he made his way toward the staircase.

The sound of crumbling stones caught his attention. Fenris looked up to see a familiar small form dangling from the underside of a balcony. The child was reaching out with his foot trying to reach the wall but came up short and his foot fell away. Hawke huffed in annoyance, and tried again. 

“Hawke?” Fenris called as he came to stand beneath him. Fenris were concerned that Hawke was stuck and a bit curious of how he had gotten there. The young mage glanced over his shoulder and smiled when he saw Fenris.

“Catch me,” he said, and let go of the balcony without waiting for a response from Fenris. Fenris scramble to catch Hawke as he fell. The sudden weight of the boy nearly drove Fenris to his knees. Hawke was heavier than he expected, and he felt the solid muscles of the boy under his hands. 

“Thank you,” Hawke said patted Fenris shoulder plate, before he pushed himself out of Fenris arms. 

Fenris opened his mouth to speak but Hawke interrupted, “No time, run!” Hawke said these words as he disappeared around the corner. Fenris heard shouting above and looked up to see a scowling noble walk out onto the balcony. The noble woman was covered in feathers, and her face was twisted in disgust at the sight of him. Fenris scowled back at her for a second before pointedly turning and walked away a steady pace he learned long ago. 

Fenris descended the steps to the courtyard searching for Hawke when the lad appeared and dragged him but the hand into the shadows between the stairs. Hawke face was bright and smiling, so like a mischievous child that got away with the cookie. Since meeting Hawke, this was the first time he had seen him looked like a child.

Almost against his will his scowl soften and he raised an eyebrow, “Hawke, what were you doing up there?” 

Hawke waved a seal letter in his hand, as he replied, “Love letters, must be kept secret. Can’t let his mother know he’s interested in simple flower girl can he? Of course she appears as he’s trying to write a reply. The feather head thought of the blight idea of hiding under the balcony.” Hawke raised his eyes in exasperation and shook his head. 

“Yes, I noticed they rather favored feathers,” Fenris said dryly.

“They look like a pair of geese,” Hawke flapped his arms causing Fenris scowl to twitch. “And you know the feather head just left me dangling. I couldn’t get down. Maker I hate being short.”

“Why didn’t you use your magic to get down?” Fenris asked. He had seen Tevinter mages simply levitate to avoid taking the stairs.

Hawke tilted his head at him, and said, “Magic doesn’t solve everything. Rarely it solves anything. But we use the tools we are given.”

Fenris blinked and warmed inside, “Many in Tevinter would disagree with you.”

“Why would I care what a bunch of Magister’s thinks, I’m Ferelden,” Hawke snorted? “They’re hardly a good example to follow.”

“Indeed,” Fenris scowl returned as he fought off memories,

Seeing this Hawke continued to speak distracting him, “Any way a levitating spell isn’t that simple. You have to set limits or you’d go flying off . . . ” Hawke’s voice died way as his mouth closed forming a thin line and his eyes narrowed.

Fenris was caught off guard by Hawke sudden change in expression. The playful boy was replaced by a sharp watchful man that had no place on a child face. Fenris realizing Hawke was looking past him turned to see a group of guards being ordered around by a grey-haired noble. Hawke watched them with a calculating eye. When the guardsmen marched off the noble turned and walked pass them. 

“Blighter son of a bitch,” the noble murmured only loud enough for them to hear him as he ascended the stairs. Fenris felt a deadly aura radiate from Hawke. His face was twisted into a expression of murderous hate. One that Fenris recognized because it had often looked back at him in the mirror. He was stunned to see it on one so young. 

“Hawke . . . ?” Fenris tried to ask but Hawke just turned away. 

“I have to go,” Hawke marched off, heading directly towards the Viscount’s Keep. 

“Where are you going?” Fenris called easily catching the child. 

Hawke still didn’t look at him, and sped up his pace, “To confirm what better not be true.” Hawke raised his hood shadowing his face, and squared his shoulders. 

He walked past the guards placed at the entrance, who merely glanced at the pair. Inside the high vaulted walls of the Keep Fenris found himself stared at more than Hawke. Then he realized why; Hawke’s heavy blue cloak shifted his shape, making him looks more like a dwarf than a young boy. 

Fenris smirked inside thinking, “Hiding in plain sight. No wonder why he walks pass Templars without worry.” 

Hawke walks with a purpose into an area filled with Guards, and heads directly to a door labeled Guard Captain. Without a knock or introduction, Hawke pushed open the door hard enough to hit the wall with a heavy thud. A red-haired woman looked up at them with a disapproving frown until she saw Hawke. It instantly softens into a worried expression.

“Aveline,” Hawke tone was hard and dark, matching the stare he gave her. 

The guard woman, Aveline, sat back into her chair with a heavy sigh, “I had thought I’d have more time to deal with this before you appeared Hawke.”

“Were you going to tell me?” Hawke asked, his voice held his anger. Fenris wondered about the silent exchange of information hidden beneath the conversation. 

“Yes, you of all people deserve to know. I just hoped you didn’t have to deal with it.” Aveline replied and handed Hawke a piece of parchment. “The report only arrived a glass ago.”

“How did he escape? He was supposed to hang, Aveline.” 

Aveline sighed with dejection, “The trail is taking so bloodily long, due to the number of deaths. There’s a debate on how many people were actually killed by Kelder. It won’t change the out come, but we need to make sure there isn’t another murderer on the loose. In the mean time Kelder has been getting death threats in prison. It’s not surprising due to the nature of his crimes. But Kelder’s father requested him to be transfer to another prison. Bloodily stupid idea, but I wasn’t the one to approve of it. The prison isn’t my . . . ”

“Aveline, I know.” Hawke interrupted, holding out his hand to halt her rant. 

“Anyway, Kelder was shipped out in a prison wagon last night so it doesn’t get mobbed by angry elves. But it gets attacked by bandits on the coast. A patrol discovered the broken remains and dead guards this morning. Kelder was nowhere to be found.” 

Hawke eyes focused on the map on Aveline’s wall, as he said, “He’s either hiding or on the run. A sane man would run. An insane man would hide. And we know which one he is. Where was the wagon attacked?” 

Aveline came out from behind her desk to stand beside Hawke with a quill in hand, and marked the spot on the map as she said, “A squad of prison guards sent to track him. The reports say Kelder wasn’t hiding his track so they’ll be able to find him, Hawke. ” 

“I’m going to make sure they do. I will not let him get away.” Hawke voice was almost a snarl.

“Hawke,” Aveline commanding voice caught his attention. “I know I can’t stop you from going after him.”

“No, you can’t.”

“But I’m going with you. Don’t let your anger cloud your judgement.” Aveline words stilled Hawke’s movements. Hawke took a deep and calming breath. A calculating look returned, but his firm expression remained. 

“Very well, Aveline. I will bring a party with me, and prepare for battle.” He glanced a Fenris and asked, “I assume you are coming Fenris.”

“I do have a debt to repay,” he replied. A strange expression crossed Hawke face so fast that Fenris was unsure of what it was. Hawke turned away and marched out of the office, “Let us be off then. Too much time has been wasted already.”

Fenris felt the debt he owed the child pull him along side Hawke. He wasn’t going to let the boy face his demons alone. Hawke had refused to leave him, so will he. The guard woman was right behind them and he could feel her eyes on him. 

“Who are you?” she finally asked.

“Fenris.”

“What is your relationship with Hawke?” 

“What is yours?” Fenris snapped back, bittered about her accusing tone.

“Steady the pair of you,” Hawke said firmly. “Fenris is the elf I aided last week. I’m certain your informant told you what happened.”

“The one that left all those strange bodies in Lowtown?” Aveline glared at Fenris. “Some we couldn’t tell how they died. Are you some sort of mage?”

Fenris brittled but Hawke answered for him, “Fenris abilities are lyrium based, and aren’t magical. Most of the bodies left were mine. I was too tired to return and destroy the bodies”

Aveline groaned, “I wish you didn’t tell me things like that.” Fenris wasn’t as disturbed by this as many slaves had to kill at a young age to survive but Hawke was too calm about death for his age.

Hawke continued, “Aveline is as you have already guessed the newly appointed Guard Captain.”

“It isn’t official yet.”

“And yet you are already in the Captain’s office and quarters,” Hawke dismissed Aveline protests, causing her to hide a smile. “I met Aveline when she was put on the Kelder murder cases.”

“Murder case. Nobody could point out Kelder until you caught him,” Aveline said face darkening.

“Whom did this . . . Kelder kill?” Fenris asked, and regretted it as Hawke’s murderous aura reappeared.

“Girls, young elven girls,” Hawke answered in a low hard tone. The rest of the journey was traveled in dark heavy silence

 

\---------

 

The children of the Pit greeted Hawke when he appeared. Hawke merely waved and turns to head directly to his work section. With a flick of his wrist all the torches began burning, bathing the cavern in light and caused everyone to blink blindly for a moment. The companions stared across the cavern at the walls covered in symbols. Fenris felt sick as he recognized a couple. He wondered for the tenth time, who this strange child was. 

A large brown haired boy walked up to them and greeted Aveline, “Guards woman. What happened? I haven’t seen that expression on Hawke’s face since Kelder.”

“Kelder escaped, Bear,” Aveline said honestly.

Bears face paled, and he asked, “Does that mean Hawke’s going after him?”

Aveline nodded, “He’s outside the city. But keep the children off the streets tonight just to be safe.”

In the silence Hawke chanting voice echoed loud in the cavern, hands glowing softly as he waved them. He suddenly clenched his fist to his chest shouting a single word. The ground shuttered a moment a chest raised out of the soft dirt ground. Everyone stared in amazement across the cavern. 

“Well that’s one way to hide a chest,” Varric joked. Hawke open the chest and hung his cloak on the open lid. To everyone shock Hawke began to strip off his clothing. Bear gestured at the children to stop staring before turning to apologize to the companions. 

“Sorry, there’s no real privacy down here. Most of us have stopped caring about nudity.” Bear shrugged. “Anyway, the names Benet Scoke, but I go by Bear to the children. And you must be Varric. Hawke told us many of your stories.”

“Mine?” Varric said bewildered and shook the young man held out hand.

Bear smile widened, “Yes, he tells us your stories around the fire since we can’t go hear them for ourselves.”

“Thories,” the blond toddler cried and ran forward to cling to Bears leg looking expectantly up.

“Sorry, Cub, no stories,” and seeing the boy’s unhappiness, he continued. “Maybe tonight, Hawke might have a new story to tell.” 

Happily, Cub threw up his arms as he ran and began chanting, “Fire play!”

Upon seeing the adults worried expression at these words, Bear hasten to explain, “Hawke uses magic to manipulate the fire into pictures.”

“You shouldn’t have promised him that.” A younger girl appeared scolding Bear. “Hawke is going to be tried when he returns. He is chasing after a criminal.”

Bear expression changed, “I didn’t think . . . ”

“Why don’t I come back and give you a real performance of my stories?” Varric offered with a smile.

“Are you sure? We can’t pay you and it’s dirty down here,” she said uncertainly. 

“It’s fine, love. I assure you the Hanged Man is filthier than this place,” Varric chuckled. 

“If you’re sure, the children will love it, and Hawke . . . ” she turned to looked for him and froze in awe. 

Hawke stood in the center of the light, fitting the last piece of armor to his wrist. It was a light armor, made to fit his small form. Spiked grey plates covered his legs and left arm. His right arm was bare expect for the clawed gauntlets. But Fenris new this gave Hawke quick access to his life blood if he needed it. A thick neck guard provided ascensional protection without hampering the mage. A thick fur lined hood curled around Hawke’s neck, sown onto the dark leather vest he wore. A thick light brown belt held a large pouch to carry potions in. The tail of the vest was torn ragged from battles unknown. A curved sword Fenris knew to be Dalish was strapped to his belt. 

This was a battle armor, Fenris realized, made to enhance Hawke skills not to protect him. Much like the armor his former master had made for him. This chilled Fenris. It was clear to Fenris that Hawke had someone who makes him fight, who enhanced his magical abilities to be a weapon, and took away Hawke’s childhood. That armor was a symbol of Hawke’s dark past. It pulled Fenris to Hawke, and solidified his resolve to follow beside the child. 

Varric whistled as Hawke joined them, “That’s some outfit.”

Hawke’s mouth thinned into a hard line, and he said, “It’s merely a relic of a pass time.” It was clear that Hawke wasn’t willing to go into any more details, and none of the companions here were willing to push the issue. Hawke straightens his stance, looking like a warrior hidden in a youthful body. 

“The sun is passing quickly. It past time we move and catch up with the prison guard squad.” Hawke said firmly, as he leads them out of the cavern. 

“Lead on, mighty leader,” Hawke took Varric comment without a word his mind elsewhere. But Fenris wondered when they had let the lad led and why it didn’t fell unnatural. 

\-------

The companions arrived at the abandon cavern just as three guards stumbled out battered and bloodily. Two more appeared, one carrying the other, out of the entrance. The light-haired leader gently laid the wounded guard on the ground. Hawke seeing the severity of the wound stepped up, and without a word of warning began casting a healing spell. The guardsman features eased as the pain dissipated.

“What . . . ” the light-haired guard stared with widened eyes. 

Before he could protest or question Hawke, Aveline stepped in, “Report Guardsman. What is the situation?”

Aveline commanding voice made him automatically answer, “Sergeant Nabil, serah. The fugitive was tracked to these ruins. But when we tried to pursue him, creatures attacked us. Several of my men were killed and we were forced to retreat.”

As Aveline distracted the guard, Hawke focused on helping the wounded. Fenris watched as Hawke gently waved glowing hands over the wounda, stopped the bleeding as red scar tissue appeared. Hawke reached into his belt and pulled out a veil. He bit the stopper and pulled it out with his teeth. Gently Hawke raised the wounded mans head and placed the veil to his lips.

“Guardsman you have been poisoned by a spider bite you must drink this antidote to purge your body of the poison.” Hawke said softly, and the man swallowed the potion. “Good, now rest.”

The other guards surrounded Hawke and asked, “He’ll be all right?” Hawke gestured to one of them to sit and Hawke laid the wounded man head on his lap.

Hawke nodded, “The bite didn’t go deep but the poison did get into his system. Thankfully he got the antidote before it was too late. A couple days rest to allow his body to recover and he’ll be healthy again.” 

The guards gave a sigh of relief. The Nabil towered over Hawke as he spoke, “Thank you, lad. But can I ask who you are?”

“I’m an apprentice healer. I'm following Aveline as she chases after Kelder,” Hawke lied. But it was better than telling them the truth, Fenris supposed. 

“Your going to arrest that monster after everything he did!” a sharp voice caught their attention and a red-haired elf marched up to them. “He deserves to be killed for his crimes!”

Aveline raised her hand to halt the elf shouts and asked, “Serah, what is your name? And what are you doing here?”

“Elren, a traveling merchant,” the elf stated. “And my daughter has been taken by that monster.”

Aveline swore, “He has a hostage?”

The older elf gave a desperate and angry expression, saying, “After everything I’ve heard about that monster, I can’t hope that my daughter still lives. That man deserves death for what’s he’s done.”

Again Aveline halted Elren rage, “I know Kelder crimes, I was at his trial. He is going to hang, Serah. That is a fate he can’t escape.”

“But he has and he’s taken another life! Had you humans been doing your jobs properly he wouldn’t have killed so many. Nor would he have killed my daughter!” Elren yelled. Hawke grabbed Elren hand catching his attention. The older elf looked down into eyes that matched his anger and vengeance. His words died in his mouth.

“Their deaths will be avenged. The pain of their families will be revenged. This will be the vengeance of justice. This act of revenge will be mine. I will send him to the void.” Hawke voice was cold and held deadly promise. Standing there in his armor Hawke looked otherworldly and strange to everyone. Elren eyes narrowed and nodded at Hawke. 

Hawke turned his back to them and strode toward the ruins entrance. Nabil stepped in his path stopping him, and said, “I can’t allow you to do that. We have Magistrate orders to return the fugitive alive.”

Hawke met his gazed firmly, “I let the justice system have him, and he got away. Now he’s mine. Now get out of my way.” Hawke words were sharp and hard enough to drive the guard back a step. Fenris, Aveline and Varric were at Hawke’s back staring a the guard as well. Under their combined gaze, Nabil had to back down. 

He stepped away, saying, “It’s madness to do against the Magistrates orders.”

Hawke waved a dismissive hand as he walked pasted him, “He had his chance, its clear he doesn’t want his son death. But justice will come regardless.”

The group entered the underground ruins in silence, weapons at the ready. The companions formed around Hawke in a triangle. Fenris and Aveline in the front, leading the way through the lava lit tunnels. Varric walked behind Hawke keeping an eye behind them. Hawke stared into the shadows watching for attack. 

The remains of guards warned them to the presence of the spiders ambush. Hawke knocked them out of their webs on the roof. Hit the ground on their backs the spiders were easy pickings for Fenris and Aveline’s blades. The fights was brutal and brief. 

Varric picked spider webbing off his shirt and said, “Is that all, not even worth the price of a arrow. Your guards need better training, Aveline.”

“Not my guards yet, Varric. But I’ll remember to change the training roster to include the prison guards. Clearly they are getting slack.” Aveline replied. 

The open room they entered had an threatening air to it, causing the hair on Fenris arm to stand up. The ground stirred and corpses rose out of the ground. Fenris strode forward as the vanguard and slashed at the rising corpses. Aveline protected Hawke and Varric from descending spiders. Hawke waved his sword like a staff raining fire across the room. In another moment, lightning streaked across the room knocking down a spider out of the air. Varric bolts struck the enemies too far for them to reach. 

A chill filled the air and a Arcane Horror stepped out of the Fade. Fenris snarled and went to strike it only to have it vanish beneath his blade. It reappeared across the room close to Hawke, too close. Hawke barrier absorbed the first blow the Arcane Horror directed at him, but the second broke through and knocked him to the ground. 

“Hawke!” Fenris yelled but he was unable to aid his young friend as he was surrounded by corpses. Varric focused his shots on the Horror distracting it from the down mage. Hawke stood up, blood dripping cut on his shoulder. Hawke looked at the blood on his hand, and with a snarl used it to wipe a red streak across his nose. There was no desperation or fear in his eyes. And his steady manner calmed Fenris fears. 

Magic pooled in Hawke’s hands glowing yellow, and his hands moved in a steady flow as if he was doing a slow dance. The Arcane Horror felt the drawing of magic and directed it attacks at Hawke. Aveline appeared blocking the attack with her shield. Hawke eyes glowed as the magic filled him, and with a fierce cry he stabbed the ground with his sword. 

The ground shock beneath them, cracks forming in the stones. Fenris steadied himself with is blade to keep himself from falling. Suddenly spears of stones shot out of the ground striking each enemy in the room. The Arcane Horror screamed as it was impaled on the sharp stone, and dissipated into nothing. All of the spider still moving had been crushed under stones. The other corpses were either knocked to ground or were broken but the attack. Fenris finished them off in swift thrust of his blade. 

Fenris steadied his breathing and took a quick drink from his water skin. Varric check his crossbow before snapping it closed, and began searching the corpses for valuables. Aveline was wiping the blood off the Templar shield she carried. Fenris glanced at Hawke to find him still knelt on the ground by his sword. The young boys chest was heaving and he leaned his head against his sword. Fenris stepped up beside the young boy, and held his waterskin his Hawke view.

Hawke noticing the waterskin, took it with a grateful smile. He swallowed two mouthfuls before handing to back to Fenris. Hawke stood up, taking a blue lyrium potion out of his belt and drank it all down. He gave Fenris a smile, saying, “That was fun.”

“Hawke you need to change your idea fun,” Varric commented. 

Hawke glanced up running his hand through the air, and said, “Shame we don’t have a artifact to strengthen the veil here. This place will only get worse.”

“Does such a thing exist?” Fenris asked.

“Yes, the veil weaken and tares often enough through history that people have to create means of maintaining it.” Hawke replied with a wave. “I just wish I had one with how often I encounter demons.” Aveline and Varric share a concerned glance while Fenris narrowed his eyes at them. Hawke either ignore or didn’t see their stares because to pulled his sword out of the ground and processed towards the door. 

The companions went deeper into the ruins. A girls screams had them running into a larger room. 

“Please, please don’t hurt me,” the desperate plead echoed through the room.

“No, no, screaming.” Kelder shouted in a angry voice. Kelder held a screaming elf girl by her arm, and slapped her across the face with a snarl. She fell heavily to the ground, with a muffled cry of pain. Kelder looked down in horror for a moment then his face twisted again and he raised another fist. 

“Stop!” Hawke yelled as he raised a hand and pushed with his magic throwing Kelder across the room into the wall. Hawke rushed to the elf girl side, checking her for more injuries. Fenris and Aveline stood protectively around them, glaring at the slumped form of Kelder. She whimpered under his touch and Hawke eased her pain with a spell.

In a soft voice Hawke said, “Easy, easy. I’m a friend I won’t hurt you. My name is Hawke. What’s your?” 

She looked confused at his young face, “Lia...”

“Lia, that a pretty name.” Hawke gave he a gentle smile. “Did he hurt you anywhere else?”  
The young elf shook her head and said desperately, “He said he would hurt my family if I didn’t come with him. My father...” She was panicking, breath coming in short breaths, eyes wide with horror.

Hawke eased her panic by placing a hand on her chest, saying, “Your father is fine and waiting for you at the entrance. Now take a deep breath for me. There now steady, breath out slowly.” She followed his instructions and she calm slightly but she was still shacking. 

 

“Can you stand?”

“Ye..yes,” Lia replied and using Hawke’s shoulder stood up. She wrapped her arms around herself in a hug. Lia shuddered when she saw Kelder form across the room, and stepped back. Kelder was coughing fighting to get his breath back.

“Varric stay beside Lia and don’t let any harm come to her,” Hawke ordered, and Varric positioned himself beside Lia crossbow raised. 

When Kelder could breathe, he gasped out, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I didn’t mean to.”

“Sorry about what, Kelder?” Hawke stood between Fenris and Aveline, trying to keep control of his raging emotions. “About hitting Lia? About threatening her and kidnaping her? Because we both know that isn’t true.”

Startled by Hawke’s voice Kelder looked up into burning blue eyes. Kelder’s eyes widen in stock and he said, “I know those eyes. Eyes full of judgment and damnation. You have the eyes of the Maker.” Kelder shuffled on his knees towards Hawke, but before he could get close Fenris drew his blade and blocked his way. 

Kelder stopped but he barely noticed Fenris as he stared at Hawke, and “Child of the Maker. Bring me salvation.”

“I am no prophet. I bring no salvation. I am only here to ensure you die.”

“Yes, I had hoped that the creatures here would get me. Death is my only atonement. ” Kelder said slowly, and almost softly.

“And yet you drag another innocent girl to her death.” Hawke nearly snarled. 

“She was too beautiful, the demons told me she needed to be punished like all the others. The demons don’t like it when they scream.” Kelder confessed eyes wide and haunted. “The demons must be stopped.”

Hawke stare was cold and voice hard as stone, “There are no demons, Kelder.”

“No, you don’t understand. No one does, even the mages at the circle. The demon are here in my head, voices echoing in my ear telling me what to do.”

Hawke hesitated a moment, before saying, “It wasn’t the demons who tortured and killed all those girls, Kelder. It was you. You who held the knife, you who has the blood on his hands, you who watched the lights die in their eyes.”

“It was the demons. They told me to!” 

“Then you shouldn’t have listened,” Hawke yelled, voice echoing off the wall.

Kelder began crying, greats sobs as he said, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

Hawke sudden anger faded and he felt cold inside as he said, “You will die Kelder. But there will be no salvation for you. Not here and not in the void. But there maybe some salvation for those you have killed.”

Kelder looked at him with broken eyes and hung his head in shame. Hawke reached for his belt and drew his knife. Fenris grabbed his shoulder, and asked, “Allow me to grant his wish.”

Hawke shook his head, and said in a cold voice, “No, this is my task.”

Kelder looked up into Hawke’s eyes, saying, “Tell my father I’m sorry.” Hawke step forward until he stood in front of Kelder, placing his dagger on Kelder neck. 

“You have pretty eyes,” Kelder voice suddenly changed and murder glare appeared in his eyes. Before Hawke react Kelder grabbed the dagger blade pulling it from Hawke’s grasp. With his other hand he grabbed Hawke’s throat. The other shouted Hawke’s name but Kelder snarled at them to stay away.

Hawke didn’t scream as the finger tightened, and gasped, “Is this really what you want Kelder. Forever being ... a pawn of the demons... *gasp*...?” Kelder movement stilled but Hawke was struggling to breath now. 

The murderous looked in Kelder eyes was replaced by a look of confusion. Kelder let go of Hawke and stared at his hands in horror, as he stepped back. The blade of Hawke’s knife had cut him and Kelder’s hand was bloody. 

“No I...no...I can’t ... won’t ... not some as pure and magnificent as the child of the Maker.” Kelder shutter. “I won’t harm anyone else.” With a swift movement, Kelder drew the dagger across his throat. Lia screamed and hid her eyes from the sight. Kelder seemed shocked at himself a moment before he closed his eyes in peace and fell to the ground. Hawke coughed staring at Kelder, as the blood pooled around him. 

Fenris knelt down by Hawke side, and asked, “Are you alright, Hawke?”

Hawke shock his head and raised a glowing hand to his throat and the bruise faded. When he could talk again, he said, “I didn’t think he had it in him.” He sighed heavily and turned his back to Kelder, “Let us get you back to your father, Lia.”

Lia looked at him with wide eyes and asked innocently, “You were going to kill him. Why? He said he was sorry.” 

Hawke meet her young gaze with sad eyes, and said honestly, “Because he killed my friend.” He didn’t say anything more but walked past her and lead the way out of the tunnels. 

As they were walking Lia asked another question, “Your friend what was their name?”

“Fennec. She ...she was the person who showed me the sky and taught me its ok to fall so long as you stand back up.” Hawke kept ahead of them so they couldn’t see his face but they could hear the sadness in his voice. The light of the entrance silhouette as he said these words. 

When Lia left the cave she saw he father and ran up to hug him. He looked stunned to see her and then gripped her tight in his arms. Elren looked over her shoulder and nearly sobbed, “Lia...you saved her. I couldn’t hope that she...” 

Then he stood up straight, and asked, “Is he dead? That monster...”

“Yes, he can’t hurt anyone now,” Hawke said solemnly.

“Father, Hawke saved me. Healed me. And Kelder...” Lia voice trailed off. 

“I almost didn’t believe in justice anymore. But I speak of all of the Elven in the Alienage. We are in your debt.” Elren handed Hawke a coin purse. Then he bowed and left with Lia in his arms. 

“I feel for the knife ears but the Magistrate have us direct orders. And it madness to go against the Magister.” Nabil said gruffly. 

Aveline glared at him, and answered, “We weren’t hired by the Magistrate. So you can either tell him the monsters got him or mercenaries killed him. Either way you are not to blame. Just get your men back to the city for medical attention and rest.”

“Yes, serah,” the guard saluted. As the remaining guards left carrying the wounded man on a broken panel, Hawke rubbed the back of his neck.

“Almost sunset. Perhaps there will be some food when we return to the Pit.” Hawke said and glanced at Varric. “I assume you are coming Varric. You did promise a preformance.”

“Ah, you heard that. Well let me grab a drink before I come. I sure need one after this.” 

Hawke sighed heavily, “Maker, I want one as well.”

“No! You are too young. Ale isn’t healthy for you.” Aveline stated firmly.

“And yet most adults drink it.”

“No!”

Fenris chuckled under his breath as he listen to the three of them argue about underage drinking as they returned to Kirkwall. Living in Kirkwall isn’t going to be boring so long as Hawke is in it.


	14. Enemies Next Door

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A old face appears and blood mages need to be killed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not entirely satisfied with this chapter so I may change it later. But I think I just need to push through it. I think some things need to be explained and addressed by the characters. But I'll get back to the main adventures of the story. Don't hesitate to make some recommendations.

“Hawke, you fool do you know how much those goods were worth?” Athenril scolded.

Hawke frowned and replied, “Pryce was a child, Athenril, trying to care of his sisters. I gave Pryce the goods and told him to start his life over. Why are you trying to test my loyalties like this?”

“This was a job, Hawke. One that you failed at.”

“You know that I wouldn’t have taken the goods. So why give me a job that you know I wouldn’t have completed?” Hawke said, crossing his arms and tilted his head to the side. “Unless you don’t want me to come back.”

Athenril looked taken aback, then shock her head, “Your too smart for your own good, Hawke. Don’t come looking for work anymore. You’re meant for better things.” She said the last bit in a low whisper. The elf smuggler turned he back to him and strode away leaving Hawke behind.

“People expect too much from me,” Hawke thought sadly. 

Hawke rubbed his face, and sat on a empty crate that creaked under his weight. He decided to wait for some business here. The Under City was slow, most of the small unofficial stalls exchanged goods lay empty. A couple of passer by greeted Hawke, and he gave a half hearted wave. Hawke gave a sigh as people continued to pass him by. He wished he could take request of hunting thieves and gangs in the city. But after a few incidents Aveline as all but forbidden him from roaming the city at night. 

“You looked as bored as I am,” Hawke glanced over to where Tomwise had set up shop. The elf poison maker leaned against the wooden plank he used as a table. 

“Heard what Athenril said. Tough break. Athenril got tight with her purses and had cut me off as well. But if your on your own now I’d like to offer you my services. Business has been slow.” Tomwise said, he stood up and handed Hawke a scrap of paper. “Here, a gift.”

Hawke read the poison recipe, and replied, “Thanks, Tomwise. You can do grenades as well?”

“Of course, just bring be the ingredients.”

“Which ones make the best flash grenade do you think?” Hawke asked conversationally. 

He merely wanted the simple chatter of the elf to drown out the silence of his thoughts and kept im from thinking about the future. Tomwise began to list and compare several minerals. Hawke listed with half a ear, watching the people pass by.

A curly haired woman in a purple dress strode confidently down the passage leading a young man in a Templar recruit armor. Hawke didn’t think she was particularly beautiful but he couldn’t look away. And that set off warning bells in his mind. The man following her was clearly drugged or drunk, following the woman like a meek dog. The woman seemed familiar to Hawke but he couldn’t place where he had seen her before. As she got closer he could feel the tingle of magic radiate off her. Everyone she passed turned their head to watch her even Tomwise eyes followed her. 

Hawke watched her as she passed him to head towards the lower tunnels of Dark Town, known as the Sanctuary. When she turned her back, to spell effects faded. Suddenly his memory hit him and he remembered who she was. The prostitute mage he had killed in connection to the Blood mage cult. Hawke stood up so fast that he knocked over the box he was sitting on and startled Tomwise. Hawke charged off down the passage after her. 

Hawke slowed has he drew near sliding behind a pile of broken equipment and drew up his hood. Hawke peered through the pile to spy on the pair. The woman, Idunna Hawke remembered, was sweetly praising the Templar recruit. She rubbed his arm, then leaned up to kissed his mouth as the recruit merely stood there.

“Such a good boy. Shame I can’t keep you for myself. You are so handsome and were so good under the sheets.” Idunna gave him a predatory smile. “But we must move on with the plan. Open the door sweet thing.”

As the recruit began to respond, Hawke cast a Dispel rune beneath them. Idunna cried out in pain at the back lash of her own spell. The Templar recruit eyes came back into focus, and a snarl formed on his lips.

He grabbed his sword and snarled, “You...”

Idunna stepped back hands up eyes wide with fear, “No, wait...” But she got no further as the Templar recruit slashed her head off with his sword. Idunna body collapsed to the ground, and the recruit flung the blood on his blade at it before sheathing his sword. He began to rub his temples with his eyes closed. 

“I feel like a giant has been pounding on my head but only my pride has been hurt,” the recruit turned to look at him and paused at the sight of a child. The recruit was a young man just coming into adulthood. His boyish face had gone wane and there was a faint streak of white tinged auburn flaring back at his left temple. On his chin a spiral scar that was too familiar to him. 

Stunned Hawke breathed, “Captain Ducret? Arnaud Ducret?”

Ducret eyes went wide with surprise and shock, “How do you know that name?” He dropped to his knees in front of Hawke and grabbed Hawke’s shoulders nearly tight enough to bruise. Ducret pulled back Hawke hood and stared deep into Hawke’s eyes studying him.

“Hawke. I’m Hawke, Champion of Kirkwall. Or well ... was.” Hawke shrugged, so close Ducret smelt of ale and sweat. 

His eyes grew wider, staring at Hawke, “I found you. Your alive...and you remember me. You know me!” He covered his face with one hand before rubbing his scar on his chin. His mouth was open but he couldn’t find any words. Ducret hunched over his knees, slivering slightly, expression absolutely stunned. It was only for a moment and then he collected himself and straighten, standing over Hawke.

“I’m not alone...I don’t have do this alone,” he breathed. 

“Yes,” Hawke agreed, and asked the burning question mind. “What are you doing here, Ducret?”

Ducret blinked of his thoughts, and replied, “After I got pulled into that rift and found myself in my home town. I unhappily learned that I was forty years younger and nobody remember me.”

A unhappy expression crossed his face but Ducret smoothed it away and continued, “I thought that the others may have been pulled into the rift and sent back to their homes. The first one I thought of was you, Hawke. I knew you would be in Kirkwall. It took me a year to save up enough money to get on a ship to Kirkwall. But when I got here I didn’t hear anything about you and gave up hope.”

“Sorry, I been in hiding. I have no one to protect me from the Templars.” Hawke said understanding Ducret pain, and patted his arm.

Ducret frowned and said, “Well I can understand why. I joined the Templar's here to get room and board. But the Templar treatment of the mages here are worse than the rumors described. I don’t know why it was allowed to get this way. A number of recruits have gone missing, along with a rumor of a new ritual, which is ridiculous. So I agree to work with Knight Captain Cullen to find the recruits. So I went to the Blooming Rose while Cullen went to confront Wilmod ...”

“What! You let Cullen go alone?” Hawke felt snow melt drip down his spine. Hawke spun and ran leaving a stunned Ducret behind. 

“Wait, Hawke!” Ducret yelled after him and began to run when Hawke ignored him. Hawke had been running all over the city and was in better shape than the Templar as he had to haul his armor around. Ducret was only able to keep the little figure in eye sight as he ducked and wove his way through the city out onto the Wounded Coast. 

He finally caught up with Hawke went he paused at a cross road, gasping for air. “Hawke...what...what is going on?”

Hawke was fingering his belt trying to remember the details of that adventure, “The recruits are being implanted with demons by blood mages.” 

“What I never hear of this!” Ducret said shocked.

“Of course. It was hidden away, like many other incidents in Kirkwall,” Hawke turned on Ducret. “That recruit that Cullen is going to talk to is going to turn on him. We have to be there to protect him! Where did he say he was going to go?” 

“He said we was going to camp near the water on the cliffs.” Ducret replied. 

“That half the coast!” Hawke snarled and took off down the left path. Ducret feeling the urgency followed quickly behind. 

Hawke fanatically search the coast, thinking, “I can’t lose the man who help build the Inquisition. He too important to die!” 

Then he heard the sound of battle and rushed around the bend. He found Cullen and his siblings killing the last of the summoned demons. Bethany set her self so she was hidden behind Carver as she used her magic. The fallen corpses dissipated, leaving only a lingering scorch mark on the ground. Hawke breathed again when he saw all of them alive.

Ducret raced forward calling, “Knight Captain, are you alright?” Hawke hanged back, hiding in the shade of a tree. 

Cullen grabbed his side and said, “Delon, what...what are you doing here.” 

Ducret steadied Cullen and replied, “I’ve got some bad news and I had to find you right away. But it seems that you found out the hard way.” 

“I knew... I knew he was involved in some thing sinister. But this...is it even possible?”

“Demons can summon others to possess unwilling hosts,” Ducret said in a hard tone before hastily adding. “I’ve read of several incidents.  
”  
“I didn’t think it could be possible with one of our own.”

“We are human, Knight Captain. Temptation is not just a sin of mages.” Ducret said in sad tones.

“But we must be above it!” Cullen snarled. “We are Templars!”

“But he was not. He was just a recruit.” Ducret pointed out. “I nearly fell to blood magic myself. That what I came to report. A prostitute at the Blooming Rose is using blood magic to control the recruits mind and lead them to where they can implanted with a demon.” Hawke was surprised at how well the old...well young Templar lied. 

Cullen stared at him shocked, then asked, “Where were they being taken?”

Ducret shook his head, and said, “I don’t know. I was being lead to that place when this ... lad, stepped in and broke the spell holding my mind. Before she could claim it again I cut her down so I wasn’t able to get any more information. But I had heard her plans before she got control of me. I knew you were in danger and I came right here.”

“I was fortune to have the aid of these adventurers.” Cullen indicated the Amell Twins and Varric.

“Just glad we we’re here to prevent anything bad from happening,” Bethany said.

“You shouldn’t have been alone out here with him,” Carver stated firmly.

“Yes, neither of us should have tried to do this alone.”

“I need to ask. Have you heard anything about the recruit named Keran. He’s missing and we’ve been trying to find him.” Bethany asked Ducret. 

Ducret shook his head, and said, “I was searching for him also. My lead brought me to the prostitute who took control of my mind. But I killed her, and any chance of finding them.”

“We’ll keep looking then,” Carver said, and Bethany nodded agreement. 

“The Templar will be indebted to you if you find anything,” Cullen said wincing at the pain of his side wound.

“In the mean time lets get you back to the Gallows so you can get those wounds looked at,” Ducret said and swung the Knight Captain arm over his shoulder. Cullen leaned on Ducret as he limped his way down the path. Ducret looked meaningfully at the shadow where Hawke stood. Hawke nodded at him, a promise to meet again. 

“So what now?” Varric asked. “Investigate the Blooming Rose where the prostitute blood mage was working and hope there might be a clue who she was working for.”

“No need. I know where the blood mages are.” Hawke appeared beside them surprising them. 

“Hawke! Should have know that the lad that the recruit mention was you.” Varric smiled at the youth. 

“What do you mean? How do you now where they are?” Carver glared down at Hawke.

“That apostate woman...prostitute... Apost-itute.”Hawke chuckled as he remembered Isabella’s joke, and Varric laughed with him. “I saw where she was leading him, before the recruit killed her.”

“Where?” Carver and Bethany asked at the same time.

“A part of Dark Town known as the Sanctuary. The blood mages set themself up down there without anyone realizing. I’ve a cult of blood mages as my neighbors.”

“Why didn’t you tell the Templar’s” Carver asked seriously. “They would be better equipped to deal with them.”

Hawke rolled his eyes, “Like I want Templars stomping around Dark Town looking for Blood mages and harassing people. There enough tension between mage and Templars at the moment. I rather not have any unnecessary deaths, thank you. Anyway we’ll be enough to deal with them.”

“We? You won’t be coming with us.” Carver said firmly crossing his arms.

Hawke crossed his arms in mirrored movement, eyes narrow at Carver as he thought. Hawke then relaxed his arms in a shrug, and said, “Fine, but at least take Anders with you.”

“That abomination?”

Hawke turned on Carver with fury in his eyes, “He is not an abomination. He is a skilled Grey Warden, and experienced mage. He has more training in how to deal with possession than either you or your sister combined. So stop being so blind Carver and get the aid when you need it before you lead your sister to her death!”

The last comment was a low blow but he need Carver to see reality if he was going to take Hawke’s place as Champion. Carver face twisted in anger but Hawke didn’t back down matching Carver furious gaze with one of his own. Bethany touched Carver arm drawing his gaze. They had an unspoken conservation, which Hawke had seen his siblings do before. Carver expression soften and he nodded his head.

“Very well,” he agreed.

“Good. I’ll see you back at the Clinic when you are done.” Hawke said and marched off without another word. 

Varric appeared at his side, “We mine as well come with you since we are bring Anders with us. Also you shouldn’t be on the coast alone, there Tal-Vashoth and bandits out here.”

“I know how to avoid danger, Varric.” Hawke said with a huff. Carver and Bethany followed silent behind them as they bantered.

“I doubt that Hawke. You practically have danger written in your name.”

“Danger Hawke...no that doesn’t work. Dangerous Hawke.” Hawke waved his hands in front of himself. 

“That saying that you’re dangerous.”

“And I’m not?” 

“I don’t think you want to advertise. Though it would make a cool nickname.” Varric chuckled.

“So what’s your real name?” Bethany asked innocently.

Hawke eyed his siblings, and said, “No business of your’s. I’m Hawke to everyone. It maybe a nickname but I like it.”

Hawke turned back to talking with Varric, choosing to ignore the piercing gaze of Carver and Bethany. But secretly worried about it. He made it to the Clinic without talking to the Twins again. Hawke waved Anders off promising to watch the Clinic. Then laid down on one of the cots to think about the situation of Arnaud Ducret.

Arnaud Ducret appearance had brought a whole new layer a problems to his already rift size problem. He didn’t know enough to deal with it yet. But then that was the story of his life. Too deep to avoid the problem and too stuck to fix it properly. Hawke knew one thing; he had to talk to Ducret. But first he needed to eat. He cursed his small body for it’s giant appetite and thought about getting a meal. So he wasn’t listening until he noticed Carver and Anders fighting.

“You should keep your son out of trouble. He was going to go after the blood mages.” Carver snapped.

Anders turned on Hawke and asked, “Is that true? You were going to fight a cult of blood mages alone.”

Hawke stretched, “Not alone, but I was going to go with them. And I’m not his son, I’m his apprentice.”

“Maker, Hawke when will you realize when you can’t handle something.” Anders said covering his eyes.

Irritated from being hungry, Hawke let his temper get the better of him, “I can and would have deal it them. I am a mage and far more powerful than you even with Justice. I’ve faced pirates, bandits, assassins, and murders. And that has been only in the last year. I’ve seen battle fields and watched friends die. I’ve seen the Void and the Fade. I will kill when needed. You can’t shelter me from the darkness of this world because I’ve already seen it. So stop trying.”

The stunned adults stared at him, and Anders stepped up to touch him, “Oh Hawke.”

Hawke smacked his hands away, “I don’t need to be coddled. Don’t treat me like a child.”

“You are a child,” Carver pointed out. 

Hawke cold eyes made Carver shiver, “I’ve stopped being a child years ago. There isn’t an innocent bone in my body. So if you think for one moment you can take control of my life you have another thing coming. Because I will fight you and I will win.” Despite being shorter than all of them, Hawke stood battle ready with his hands hidden, and staring them all down.

Varric decide that the argument had gone far enough, and stepped up to Hawke, “Why don’t we take a break before someone say something they will regret.” Hawke seemed to deflate but didn’t bring out his hands until Varric glanced at him. “Nobody going to lock you way Hawke. Relax, its fine. Just be yourself.” 

Hawke blinked surprise, then nodded and rubbed the back of his neck. Varric knew that meant he surrendered. The rest of the group seem confused and bit horrified. Hawke looked away from them knowing he had said too much. Without another word he left the clinic. 

When Bethany moved to go after him, Varric stopped her, “Let him go, he need some room.”

Bethany turned on him, “Is everything he said true?”

“Aye, it’s true. Thought I don’t like to think about. But if rumors are correct, he has fought more battles than you and your brother.” Varric confirmed scrubbing his beardless chin. “I’ve personally witnessed his abilities. And I can say compared to either you or Anders or even Merrill, Hawke is the more powerful mage.”

“You know that is impossible.” Bethany said doubtfully.

“And yet its true. Hawke never speaks about his past. I’ve learned more about Hawke today and all my informants have found in five months.” Varric said. “Its clear that Hawke hasn’t had a normal childhood.”

“It is possible to enhance your magical abilities. Children when their magic first appear are still developing their mana pools. So if you want to create a strong mage you do it when they are young.” Anders speculated looking up.

“Great, so he was experiment on. He still shouldn’t be running around fighting.” Carver stated.

“Junior if you learned anything about Hawke tonight it that you can’t stop him. He lives his own life. We can only aid him when he asks for it.” Varric said and Anders agreed with him.  
The room went quiet as each of them were lost in there own thoughts. 

Then Bethany asked, “Where was Hawke going anyway?”

All of them rushed out toward the Sanctuary.

\--------

Hawke hadn’t gone after the blood mages. He knew it was childish and too dangerous to go alone. So he went to the Gallows instead to meet Ducret instead. It was safer than the Sanctuary though not by much. He was angry, mostly at himself for relieving too much. He didn’t mean to lash out at them. He just wish he wasn’t a child. 

He asked one of the lingering recruits to inform recruit Dolens that Hawke was here to see him. Hawke decided to buy some food from one of the tranquil. While the tranquil made his skin crawl, he made a point of praising the food happily. He knew while the tranquil couldn’t express the feeling, they did feel good about being useful. The days when the rite of tranquility would end couldn’t come fast enough. Hawke lounged in the shade of one of the slave statues. Ducret appeared frantically looking for Hawke until he waved at him to get his attention. The Templar marched over to him studying him before letting out a relived breath. 

“Hawke! Good you’re here. I was almost afraid you were an figment of my mind after the mage tampered with it.”

Hawke tilted his head to the side, saying, “Sorry, I’m all too real. Why did you think I wasn’t?”

“Cullen said he hadn’t seen you.”

“Of course he didn’t. I am a mage. I’m not going to let the Templar Knight Captain see me. I don’t want any trouble with the Templars.”

“Not so loud,” Ducret looked around to see if anyone heard and focused on the group of female Templars who turned away when he looked their way.

To stop the panic he saw in Ducret, Hawke said, “It’s fine their not listening. They just think I’m a visiting relative of your’s. There most talking about how good looking your family must be.”

“How do you know?”

“I can read lips. As a messenger I’ve hone that skill to keep my days interesting.” Hawke explain with a shrug of his shoulders. 

“You’re a messenger?” 

“Well, it hard getting a job when your nine, and have no one to support you.” Hawke saw Ducret pained expression and knew he understand.

“Shit, we certainly got shafted on this deal.” Ducret rubbed his eyes and sat do beside Hawke in the shade. “What was that mad man trying to do when he created that spell?”

“Rune, actually. Though it combines spell writing and enchanting as well.” Hawke explained. “Its ground breaking work. Though I can’t say I approve of it since it left me looking like this in a new time line.”

Ducret gave him a stunned look, “New time line?”

Hawke nodded, “We weren’t place back in time more than, thrust into a new reality. One that was warped by our placement here.”

“I still don’t understand. How is this possible?”

“I’m not up to speed with the current magical advancement and theories. From what I understand when I talked to Dorian about his trip into the future is that there multiple potential realities. The idea that what if your mother hadn’t meet your father would the world still be the same? Mind blowing but understandable if you consider the possibility that all these realities are connected by the Fade, and the Void.” Hawke stopped when he saw Ducret blank expression.

“Maybe it’s best I only explain two facts for you,” Hawke coughed and held up one finger. “First nobody remembers you because you were never born. There is only one soul, so when your soul was place in this new body you couldn’t have been born because that body had no soul.”

“What that’s...”

Hawke continued without Ducret interruption, “Second and more importantly. There still exists our time line.” He let those thought sink into Ducret mind, and he got some more food. He came back and handed Ducret a bag of nuts. When Ducret took the bag, but didn’t eat, Hawke told him too. Then they sat in silence for a moment. It was a small glimmer of hope, but Hawke realized that Ducret needed some hope. Hawke had been to disappointed in his life to believe in hope anymore. 

“Thank you,” Ducret spoke in a soft tone. “Thank you, for knowing my name. For being here and giving back my hope.”

“Don’t get’s your hopes up too much. I have no idea how to get us back, or if it’s even possible. I’m doing research but I’ve hit a wall because I can’t understand half of the runes or encryptions.” Hawke said feeling the sudden weight of Ducret hope on his shoulders.

“But it’s possible, we could go back.”

“It’s not impossible. I just don’t know how.” 

“I will help you. Just tell me what you need.” Ducret seemed to stand taller and his eyes more clear like he was given proper again. 

Hawke felt a idea form in his head, “Well, I do need some books...”

“Done!” Ducret stood up eagerly.

“Hold up, Ducret. I don’t even know which books I need or where they are.” Hawke halted the Templar’s movements with a gesture of his hand.

Ducret stilled, and said, “I still thankful you know my name. But I’ve had to change it, since my family is a wealthy noble family. I’m Arn Dolens. So please call me Arn.”

Hawke nodded understand, “Arn, you can continue to call be Hawke. No point in using my first name, I don’t respond to it.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard your first name. I always thought you were just called Hawke.” 

“It’s Garret.” 

“Garret, good to know if I ever need to send you a secret message.” Ducret chuckled and brighten at the thought. 

Before Hawke could say anything else, his name was called and he was crowded by his siblings and companions. Ducret stepped back allowing the group to have Hawke.

Anders dropped to his knees and gathered Hawke into his arms, “Hawke, .... your going to make me bald before my time.”

“Anders, let go. What’s this all about?” Hawke pushed against the arms around him.

“Well when you stormed out we thought you had gone after the blood mages.” Varric explained. “When we couldn’t find you we were a bit panicked.”

Anders let go of Hawke only enough to be able to see the boy’s face, and asked worried “Why are you in the Gallows?”   
“Just visiting a friend I haven’t seen in a long time,” Hawke replied, and the group focused on Ducret standing behind him.

Anders face twisted, “A Templar?”

Hawke rolled his eyes, “A Templar recruit. It’s a good line of work for an orphan. And I don’t judge him for it. Anyway did you already defeat the blood mages?” He noticed the rescued recruit hug his sister, and Cullen came marching out.

“Yes, you were right that we were able to handle them without a problem, and rescue the not possessed recruit.” Bethany said it as of she was reminding everyone of that fact.

“Then you best go inform Cullen of your adventure, and clear up any misunderstandings.” Hawke gestured at the group across from them. Bethany nodded and went with her brother towards Cullen. With Hawke insistence Varric and Anders followed. 

Ducret watched the group with his eyes, “Are those your siblings?”

“It’s too clear that I’m related to them,” Hawke nodded. “It makes it harder to hide from them. I don’t know how to explain it to them.”

“They don’t know about you?” Ducret asked turning his gaze to Hawke.

“Nope. We don’t even share the same last name anymore. I’m a total stranger to them.”

“Your stronger than I am. I could barely even look at my family estate.” Ducret eyes went distant and he sighed sadly.

“It harder seeing them all alive and living better than when I was with them.”

Ducret turned his gaze to study Hawke, as he asked, “What do you mean?”

Hawke felt his chest tighten as he answered, “I watched each of them die before. I won’t do so again.”

“I see.”

“Got to go, Ducret...Arn. But I see you again.” 

“How will I contact you?” Ducret grabbed his arm looking a but frantic. 

Hawke patted his hand and then removed it from his arm, “I’ll contact you and set up a message point. Bye.” Hawke went over to the group and was quickly hustled out of the Gallows by Anders, Varric at his heels. Varric glanced over to the strange Templar recruit and make a note of him. He had some research to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't forget to check out the short prequel shorts about Hawke.   
> I don't have a beta so tell me if you see any major mistakes.


	15. Magic Limits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Feynriel runs off and Hawke get captured by slavers.

A human face spider demon wailed as it burned. Hawke snarled and cut down another demon trying to jump on him. The demon was torn apart under his bladed staff and spattered the ground with gore. Before he had time to breathe, another demon larger than the others circled him. Hawke squared off against the beast, making sure his footing was on stable ground. 

The fear demons had attacked as soon as Hawke found himself in the nightmare world of the Fade. He knew that fear takes the shape of the mages subconscious fears. To Hawke the fear demons appear as spiders with a human head placed onto the body. The human face had twisted spider fangs pointing out from their mouths. But these seem different from the ones he had face with the Inquisitor. An iron collar was rapped around their necks, rubbing the skin until it was red and raw. 

“Human...” the demon spoke, fangs clicking as they moved.

“Oh marvelous, it speaks now too,” Hawke thought grimly.

“You owe the Overseer a debt. He desires your presence.” 

Hawke pointed his staff at the demon, and said boldly, “And if I have no desire to meet that thing?”

The fear demon hissed, “You will address him as the Overseer or Master. And your desires mean nothing to the Overseer. His will shall be followed.”

Without any warning another demon appeared out of the air and dropped on Hawke. Hawke felt the fangs of the demon sinking into his shoulder. He cried out in pain, and struggled to begin a spell to kill the beast. Suddenly the demon was lifted off him, and Hawke did not hesitate to take advantage. The demon had been flipped over on to its backside, spider arms waving. As it tried to right it self, Hawke stepped forward and cut it’s belly open. 

Feynriel stepped up to his side saying, “Looks like you need some help.” Hawke glanced at him with a slight smile which fell away as the demons attacked again. With a wave of his hand Hawke's Barrier rose and the demon smacked face first into it. Feynriel threw lightning bolts at each of the demons. Hawke and Feynriel had fought together enough that a easy pattern had begun to appear. Feynriel would complete long range attacks while Hawke moved forward with deadly force. But today Hawke hung back, standing behind the younger mage placing a hand on his shoulder. Feynriel nodded, hoping he understood Hawke’s intent. 

“The pet, about time you appeared. The Overseer said you wouldn’t be far from your master.” The demon laughed and continued. “The master shall reward me greatly for the capture of the pair of you.”  
“Not happening,” Feynriel said and continued his lightning attacks. As Feynriel kept them occupied Hawke began a larger spell, weaving his bloody staff around him. The demons felt the draw of magic and attacked more fiercely. Feynriel was forced to bring up his own Barrier but it wasn’t as strong as Hawke’s, as it bent under the demons attack and drained Feynriel of mana. Trusting Feynriel to protect him, Hawke continued the spell becoming lost in the magic. 

In the Fade with magic every where Hawke felt the magic flow through him wild and untamed. He needed to focus it, direct it to his intent, and collected it in his hand. When he had enough magic, Hawke pushed Feynriel to the side and targeted the demons. Pointing the palm of his hand out he sent spears of burning fires at the demons. The flames were so focused and hot that the stream glowed white. Each bolt hit its target at the same moment and carved a hole in each demon. With a final scream they died, bodies falling to ashes. 

The human like screams made Feynriel cringe and he said, “Maker...”

Not wanting to linger Hawke turned away and said, “We need to leave the Fade. Wake up.”  
Without waiting for Feynriel's response, Hawke pulled himself out of the Fade towards his body.

Hawke awoke with a groan, feeling his shoulder was stiff and sore. Though wounds sustained in the Fade left no mark, they hurt far worse and tended to linger. Hawke pawed at his shoulder, leaning back until he felt a warm body beside him. He glanced over his shoulder to find Feynriel curled under a sleeping fur, his back to him. Hawke poked him and Feynriel gave his own groan. 

“No, Hawke. Too tired...want to sleep.” Feynriel grumbled not opening his eyes. 

Hawke poked him again, and asked, “What are you doing here? You have your own bed to sleep in.”

“Enough,” Feynriel grunted as he rolled over and grabbed Hawke in a hug trapping his arms. “Can’t sleep at home anymore.”

Hawke tried to wiggle out of Feynriel's grip, as he asked, “Nightmares getting worse?”

Feynriel tighten his hold, “Those are mere whispers from demons. I know to ignore them. But I’ve a tendency to yell my curses in my sleep and it’s worried mother too much.” There was a heavy silence and Hawke just waited for Feynriel to continue.

“She called the Templars to take me to the Circle,” Feynriel voice was heavy with anger. “Said it is better for me to get training with mages who know their craft.”

“She's just trying to do what’s best for you,” Hawke replied, and thought. “I thought the same when I sent you to the Circle. But it led to you falling to a demons calls and I had to turn you Tranquil. I never felt more disgusted with myself and I felt tinted. I could never do that again.”

Aloud Hawke said, “Anyway these encounters in the Fade aren’t doing either of us any good. Perhaps it be best if you left Kirkwall and get away from the demons after you. Find yourself a scholar mage to be your teacher.”

“What? Why? You are a gifted mage and a skilled teacher,” Feynriel let go of Hawke and turned Hawke to look at him. 

Hawke rolled his eyes, “A gifted mage I may be but I haven’t had a Circle education. There are many mages out there with more knowledge of the Fade that could teach you to handle your abilities.”

“Don’t say you aren’t learned, I’ve seen what you write on the walls.”

“Magical calculation and rune translation. I’m still learning them. I’m skilled at the physical application of magic. But you my friend need to learn far more about the Fade than I have knowledge about. Knowledge that can be found in the Circle's libary.”

Feynriel pouted and said hotly, “Fine, turn me into the Templars.”

“No, not here. After everything I know about the Gallows, I won’t send a dog to live at the Circle in Kirkwall. That place is far too twisted and corrupt to deserve the title of Circle.” Hawke face twisted in disgusted. “Despite what mages think about Circles, they are places of learning. Before Kirkwall I had always believed that mages were better off in the Circle away from the corruption and dirtiness of the world. Away from those who hate and abuse them. If I could get access to a Circle Library and still have my freedom I would do so in a heart beat. But as it stands the Circle drives people away by trying to keep them.”

“You approve of Templar's watching and judging a mage’s every move?”

Hawke shrugged, “I’ve seen just as many evil mages as I have seen evil men. Templars are meant to capture and kill evil. Not trap and torment innocent people. I’m not sure when everything became so twisted.”

“You side with the Templars over your own kind?” Feynriel moved away from Hawke like he had the Blight. 

Hawke sighed placing his head in his hands, “It’s not about taking sides. Its about seeing the good and bad of both sides. About using your judgement to see the situation as it is and not merely draw conclusions based on what you've heard. The world isn’t right or wrong, but a mix of both. You have to learn for yourself where you draw the line. I’ve learned the hard way that placing your faith in something based on their position and not on their morals will only lead to betrayal and hardship. But we are getting off topic.”

Suddenly a screech caught both their attention, and they looked up to see Cub jumping off the edge of the mining cart. He landed directly on Feynriel stomach, knocking the wind out of the half elf. Hawke sat up and was about to laugh when another smaller form landed on his back, knocking him forward.

Kitten yelled in his ear, “It’s time to get up!”

“Food time!” Cub cried out grabbing Feynriel's face.

“Come on you two, your food is going to get cold if you don't get up,” Song called. Hawke used his magic to plucked Cub and Kitten off them and lifted them out of the mining cart. As soon as they were put down the toddlers ran off towards the fire pit. Hawke climbed out and jumped down followed by Feynriel. There were several children in the Pit this morning sharing a large pot of porridge.

“Hey, Stork. Didn’t expect to see you this morning. Did you turn up in the night?” Bear asked passing him a bowl. Hawke had begun calling him that as a joke but the other children seem to pick it up. Much to Feynriel's displeasure. 

Feynriel frown and took the bowl as he said, “There are Templars searching for me. I can’t go home.” 

“Damn, that’s rough. What are you going to do now?”

Hawke answered, “We were just discussing that when we had unexpected company.” He gave Bear a pointed look, who just shrugged with a sheepish smile.

“They wanted to wake you. Didn’t know they were going to jump on you.” 

“Anyway, I was thinking to get Feynriel out of the city on a ship to Tevinter. Know of any ships heading in that direction?”

Bear shook his head, “Trade with Tevinter is limited. They only appear for the summer seasons before the storms get too rough. It’s storm season now so there hasn’t been any ships from Tevinter this month, and they won’t appear for another two.”

“Too long, Feynriel's going to be found before then.”

“Why can’t I stay? I’ve stayed hidden this long.” Feynriel asked and a frown formed on his face.

“The Templar's didn’t know you were a mage before. Now they have your description and are searching for you. Templar pay people for the capture of apostates or even information on them. Outside this Pit you are a target.” 

“Why haven’t you been taken then? Many people know you are a mage.”

“Not as many as you think. In the Under city, Anders and I are considered valuable because of our healing abilities. Not to mention we don’t charge any fees. In this place nobody is willing to give that up for a bit of coin.”

“Then I’ll do that, I’ll heal the sick with you.” Feynriel said crossing his arms like the matter was settled.

Hawke shook his head and replied, “Healing on the level that Anders does takes years of training. You don’t even know how to begin to form magic into a healing spell. Not to mention you haven’t learned anything about human anatomy. And unfortunately you don’t have a talent in that area. You can’t just suddenly become a Healer.”

“Why not? You did!”

“I’m still learning from Anders, and at the beginning I only had a minor talent in healing. You can’t compare yourself to me. I’m hardly a good example of a properly maturing mage. Its better you set yourself at a slower pace, you expect too much from yourself. You’ve already been able to do more than I thought you could.” Hawke said honestly and softly.

“There is still much you can teach me.”

“But it is best that you take another teacher,” Hawke interrupted. “Because with me you won’t be able to grow to your full potential. We’ll figure out how to get you to Tevinter.” 

Suddenly Feynriel stood up angrily, “I don’t want to go to Tevinter. I refuse to leave Kirkwall.” With that statement he stormed out of the Pit. Hawke sighed and laid his head in his hands. 

“Maker, I fail at being a mentor,” he grumbled.

Bear laughed, “Don’t worry so, Hawke. Stork’s just at the age when boys are hot headed. You tend to forget that you are not much more than a boy yourself. And to quote your own words back at you. You expect too much from yourself.”

“But that’s because I know I can do it. I know where my limits are. There's a difference.”

“Hawke, you have no limits. But your still pushing yourself too much and trying to handle too much. You don’t have to save the world.”

“No, I’m only trying to save this city.” Hawke thought darkly.

“So it's best for you and Feynriel that you’re trying to get him a new teacher.” Bear continued as he placed the empty bowl in a barrel of water. “He’ll cool down and realize the sense of it, until then leave him be. Stork will return when he is ready.”

“Very well,” Hawke said with a yawn. “I’m going back to my interrupted sleep.”

\----- 

That night Feynriel didn’t return, and Hawke became worried about him. Checking with Ducret, he found that no new mages had been brought in. Hawke stocked the Pit waiting for his return. He had Merrill watching for him in the Alienage but Hawke didn’t think he would return. He wondered if the lad had try to get out of the city on his own and fell into the same trap as before. The more he thought the more worried he became. 

With night falling, Hawke couldn’t stand it anymore. He set out to track down Feynriel, hiding in the shadows as he moved. He remembered a few things from the time he had to search for Feynriel before. But what he remembered the most was Samson, son of the bitch Templar who sold his soul to Corypheus. He had barely remember the short meetings he had with the washed out Templar while he had been living in Kirkwall. But one stood out; a conversation about saving mage children. Hawke knew Feynriel would come to him if he tried to leave on his own.

Hawke had seen the begging Templar before, and wondered if he should kill the man and save the lives of all the Templars he corrupted with red lyrium. But Hawke knew that someone else would just step into his shoes, and he would loose his advantage. Hawke stepped out of the shadows he was lurking in, striding towards Samson and drew back his hood.

Samson gave him a knowing smile, and said, “Knew you were going to make an appearance before me sooner or later. Finally sick of the stink of Kirkwall, lad?”

Hawke tilted his head, “How do you know who I am?”

“Of course I know who you are. The mighty little Hawke is the talk of the mages and the Under city these days. And since I deal with apostates running from Kirkwall I hear all the stories.” Samson said with a smile. “But you didn’t come here to listen to me. What can I do for you?”

“I’m not leaving Kirkwall if that's what your asking. I came to inquire about a mage you would have moved recently who had no money.”

“Ah, yes. I sent her to a ship captain I know, Reiner. He's been oddly interested in apostates recently. He takes them on his ship to work for him.” 

“Smuggler or slaver?”

Samson laughed and covered his mouth with his hand, “You do have a head on you. He’s just a smuggler, who makes deals with pirates and slavers to allow him safe passage.”

“Where is he?” Hawke tapped his fingers on his arms. He wanted to be away, retrieve Feynriel and return to the Pit so he could rest. Samson held out his hand in a universal gesture of a bribe, Hawke glowered and dug into his pocket for some coppers. He placed them in Samson's hand when suddenly the man grabbed his wrist.

Samson pulled him close saying, “Sorry, lad. But this has to be done.” 

A cold chill ran through his veins as he could smell lyrium on Samson's breath. Hawke felt his magic draining out of him and desperately lashed out with his other hand. Samson grabbed the other hand and held him up in the air. 

“You don’t realize how much of a bounty is out on you. Reiner is willing to pay me in lyrium for you. Oops...” Samson dodge a well aimed kick to his groin. “You are strong. Been a while since I tested my will against a magic user.”

“Let go of me!” Hawke snarled trying to lash out again, but he felt his strength failing. Another weaker kick showed Samson he was winning. 

“Stop your struggles, I’m touching your skin and can drain you much faster.” Samson said with a smirk. “You know I was saving this pinch of dust just for you. It was such a temptation, but I’m glad I had it. You have so much magic, it’s a challenge for me.”

Hawke swore weakly, head rolling forward to rest on his chest. 

“There now, not so bad is it?” Samson asked but he didn’t expect an answer. Hawke eyes closed, as he shuddered from being drained of magic.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be doing what you asked. I’m taking to you to Reiner. What he will do with you I don’t know. I feel bad about it, you being such a wee lad. But business is business.” Those were the last words Hawke heard as he fell into darkness. 

\----- 

Hawke awoke with a start and groaned as he strained his shoulder. He found himself tied to a chair, ropes rapped around him holding his arms behind his back. The room around him was full of containers. The smell of the sea and wood filled the air, so he knew he was in a ware house with a dock. Hawke pulled at his binding to found them tight and secure. But at least his magic had returned after that unpleasant draining. 

“No wonder mages in the Circles hate Templars when they abuse their abilities.” Hawke thought and rolled his head to stretch the stiffness of his neck. 

Then he heard a whimper from behind him, and Hawke glanced over his shoulder to find a young woman tied to another chair. She let out another half sob, and Hawke could see she was trembling. 

“Are you alright, serah?” Hawke asked, with her backed turned it was hard to see if she had any injuries.   
The woman stiffened in surprise and she said, “What? Oh, your awake.” She glanced over her shoulder at Hawke, with a worried expression. “I was worried that they had done something to you, coming in as limp as you did.”

His stiff neck didn’t allow Hawke to look at her long so he turned his gaze forward as he replied, “Just had my magic drained. Nothing damaging. What about you?”

He heard her suck in a breath as she said, “I’m... I’m fine. I’m not hurt.” Hawke knew that sound, she was trying to hide her pain, probably because he was a child and she didn’t want to frighten him. 

So he didn’t push the subject, and asked instead, “How did you end up here?”

“I ...wanted to leave Kirkwall and begin my own life. But ... I don’t have a lot of money. So I took Samson advice and tried to convince Captain Reiner to take me on as a ship cook. Instead ... He took me captive.”

“Right, Reiner. Didn’t Samson say something about him wanting mages?” Hawke thought and wondered how he was going to get out of this situation. He hadn’t told anyone where he was going, so they won’t be looking for him till daylight. 

In the silence, the woman asked, “My name is Olivia. What’s your’s?” She spoke to him in baby talk, trying to distract him or herself from the problem. Hawke suppressed a huff of annoyance with the interruption.

“Hawke.”

“Well Hawke did you run away from your parents because you discovered your magic?”

It was a innocent question but Hawke was too distracted to play along, and said, “I have no parents. I was looking for a friend when Samson caught me off guard and captured me.” 

“Oh I’m sorry...I didn’t know... you” Olivia didn’t know how to continue and she fell into silence. It was a thick silence but Hawke was thankful for it because it allowed him to think. 

Suddenly the room door opened and five men stepped into the room. They all wore the same leather uniform and masks. All of them were armed to the teeth with weapons. But the last man held a lofty air about him, marking him as the leader, Reiner. 

“Smugglers, my ass.” Hawke thought. “These men are clearly slavers. Smugglers don’t where so many weapons openly. It’s attracts unwanted attention. Those weapons are for intimidation.”

Hawke watched them wearily, but Olivia couldn’t see them and asked, “Who’s there?”

The slavers arranged themselves around the room circling the two tied mages. Reiner strode up to Hawke, towering over him with an air of distant contempt. 

“Are you really Hawke?” Reiner asked staring hard at Hawke. Hawke didn’t answer, eyes narrowed, and mouth set into a thin line with his chin tilted up stubbornly.

“Answer me!” Reiner shouted and slapped Hawke across the cheek. Olivia cried out, but Hawke didn’t make a sound. He felt blood drip from a cut on his lip. Hawke spat the blood on Reiner, hitting his boot. Reiner snarled as he grabbed the front of Hawke's shirt, lifting him and the chair into the air. 

“Stop it, he’s only a child!” Olivia cried out, watching them in horror.

Reiner ignored Olivia and shook Hawke like a mabari with his prey. The fierce defiant glow in Hawke's eyes didn’t fade. But he answered, “It doesn’t matter if I am. You have no intention of letting me go if I wasn’t.”

Reiner dropped Hawke and the chair hit the floor with a heavy thud. Hawke flinched, nearly biting his tongue. “So you are Hawke. Only the Pirate Slayer would be so fearless.”

The men around Hawke stiffened and murmured at the words ‘Pirate Slayer. Reiner grabbed Hawke's face tilting it left and right as he was examining him. Hawke stare ferociously back at him, and tried to jerk out of his grip, but Reiner hold was firm. 

“I didn’t expect you to be so young. A boy yes, but your still wetting the bed. And covered in rags.” He said, letting go of Hawke with a push like he was disgusted with him. 

“So sorry to disappoint you,” Hawke replied dryly, blood dripping down his chin. Reiner raised his hand to hit Hawke again.

“No, no stop. Don’t hurt him, please. Please. He doesn’t know what he’s saying,” Olivia pleaded at the top of her lungs. Reiner turned his hand on her, knuckles catching her at an angle and she fell to the ground. She screamed and began to cry. 

Reiner gave her a disgusted look, “Get her out of my sight.” Reiner’s men complied and cut Olivia bindings. Olivia whimpered as rough hands grabbed her arms and pulled her up. Two guards shared a look over Olivia that made Hawke afraid for the young woman. Hawke turned his fierce gaze back at Reiner as Olivia was dragged away.

“Still playing the hero? I’d be more worried about myself than her if I was you.” Reiner said pulling out a knife from his belt. Hawke watched the knife wearily as Reiner began waving it in front of Hawke. “Do you know how much trouble you’ve caused at sea when you killed Ravinger Gineste? Of course you don’t. You created a void in power, and every two bit pirate tried to take his place.”

“You’re a slaver why do you care about pirate business?” Hawke dare to say. 

Reiner was on him in an eye blink, knife held against Hawke’s cheek, and said, “Because I had dealings with Ravinger. He had plans for Kirkwall and I was apart of that. But you destroyed two years of planning in one night.” 

“Steady...steady...you’re not helpless yet,” he told himself. Hawke breathed heavily through his nose at the point of panicking as the dagger was pressed into his cheek. Hawke held back from trying to do a mind blast. When blood dripped down his cheek, Reiner let up and stood back.

Hawke face was emotionless as he asked, “So what are you going to do with me, then?” 

Reiner tilted his head studying Hawke, “Such bravo. I’d like to just kill you, but you’re too good to deserve such a simple fate. I plan to take you and sell you. I’m sure someone will want the Famed Pirate Slayer. But before then you will need to be broken. I’m going to enjoy doing that.”  
Hawke swallowed his fear of Reiner's cold voice. Reiner leaned over so Hawke had to stare into his murderous eyes. Then Reiner continued, “First we must move you to a more secure location. Then we can begin.” 

A sudden distant shout caught their attention. Reiner went to the door to shout, “What’s going on?” 

“An attack, Captain!”

Reiner snarled and left with the two guards leaving Hawke alone. Hawke knew this would be his only chance. He struggled against his bindings but they held fast. Hawke knew he was in trouble and the only tool he had was is magic.

“And the only magic I can do with my hands tied is mind blast. Mind Blast? Maybe I can use the force of the mind blast to break the bindings?” Hawke thought. He focused his magic and release it in the unfocused mind blast. The air around him rippled and the knocked over chair Olivia had been sitting in flew into the wall. 

“Not close enough...” Hawke said to himself and tried again. He release the magic directly around his body. He groaned as the blast hit himself as well as the bindings. The rope strained against the blast and then broke off. Hawke rubbed his arms where he knew bruises would be forming. But he didn’t have time to heal himself as the door open and one of the slavers returned to see what the noise was about. 

The slaver shouted when he saw the broken bindings. Hawke direct a streak of lightning at him, knocking him back against the door. Hawke turned his other hand and threw a ball of fire. The slaver collapsed to the ground. Hawke didn’t waste any time as he knew the other slavers wouldn’t be far behind. He formed a stone armor around himself.   
Hawke picked up the sword that the slaver had been carrying. It was too long for him, but he tied it into it’s sheath, and gripped it like a staff. His breath was heavy as if he had been running and he felt the edge of battle lust coursing through his body. The magic grew with his need and Hawke felt it surging from within. He felt like he would need to release it soon or have it burn him from within. He headed out of the room toward battle.

The moment he stepped out on to the walkway a slaver spotted him. Hawke hit him with a spirit bolt stunning him before striking out with a stone fist. The slaver was knocked over the banister and down to the floor below. An explosion alerted Hawke to the battle below. Hawke walked up to the edge and stared down. 

The slavers were engaged in battle with his siblings, along with Aveline and Varric. It was total chaos, with Carver heading head long into traps with only Bethany’s Barrier preventing him from sustaining heavy injury. Aveline was fulling engaged with a slaver wielding a great sword and unable to stop another man from charging directly at Bethany and Varric. Hawke raised his hand and froze the attacker to the spot. Varric didn’t hesitate to put a bolt through the man’s head. Bethany looked confused but she had to focus on keeping her brother alive. 

Using the sword as a staff Hawke focused his magic, casting a aura over the group increasing their battle abilities. Once that was completed, he raised his sword staff above his head directing lighting onto all the slavers he could see. The slavers suddenly found themselves caught between two fronts. Hawke attacking from behind and the advancing group of Aveline and Carver. 

“You!” Reiner's furious snarl echoed in Hawke's ears. A dagger was forced into the gaps of Hawke’s stone armor, but only nicked Hawke’s ribs. Hawke ducked and rolled away from Reiner. 

“I’m going to kill you!” he sounded manic. Reiner had a few deep cuts in his armor, and his daggers were bloody. Reiner dove for Hawke, thrusting his twin daggers down for an attack. Hawke used his sheathed sword to deflect the attack as he focused on his spell. Reiner was in close to Hawke, and went for another strike. In that moment Hawke raised his hand, and directed a force blast directly at Reiner's chest. Reiner flew across the room and hit a pillar with a crack. He was held there by Hawke's magic, and then Varric pinned him there with a crossbow bolt through the chest. The slavers dead, Hawke turned and walk towards the other room.

“Hawke!” Varric cried when he saw Hawke’s moving form above. Hawke ignored him and continued walking. He forced the locked room open with a single blast to the door, knocking it inwards. 

Then he heard Olivia’s screams, “Someone please help me!” Hawke turned to find her in the grip of the two slavers. Her robe had been half torn open, and she had her hands held down with the two slavers on top of her. 

“Can’t do magic without your hands can you, wench,” one of the slaver snarled. 

“Leave her alone!” Hawke cried, but he was too late. He could feel her changing as she let a demon take her. The burst of fire knocked the slavers backwards, and the twisted form of a abomination stood up. This wasn’t the possession of equal that Anders had with Justice. Olivia had let the demon take her to get its power, but the demon took everything. Olivia’s body, and mind, casting her soul out. She was dead as soon as she had let it. 

Hawke felt the abomination's wrath turn on him, and fire pored from the palm of it’s hand. Hawke raised a Barrier, but Aveline stepped in front of him protecting him with her shield. Carver ran forward, striking the abomination with a large sweep of his sword. Bethany was at Hawke's side casting spells to protect Aveline and Carver from the abomination's fire. 

Hawke felt angry at the injustice of it all. Olivia had only been torment and afraid, and the demon had taken advantage of that. But now she was dead because she choose to let a demon possess her. Hawke felt the wild pulse of magic within as it stirred with his anger. He used his rage to collect his magic and pooled it in his hand turning it into fire. Hawke hadn’t tried this spell out side the Fade, and the heat of the fire burned his hand. 

Hawke looked up and in a commanding tone ordered Aveline and Carver out of the way. Aveline stepped back at the command but Carver hesitated a moment striking again.

“Now!” Hawke's voice was nearly a snarl and Carver was startled enough to dive out of the way. Hawke pointed the palm of his hand and unleashed his spear of fire. It hit the abomination in the face, silencing any screams it would have released as the fire engulfed it. The abomination collapsed to the ground as a pile of ash and a scorch mark on the ground. In the moment of silence after the sounds of battle ended, the heavy breathing of the companions was loud. 

Bethany knelt down by Hawke taking in his cuts and bruises, and asked, “What happen? Are you alright, Hawke?”

Hawke stared at her with wide eyes, breathing rapidly like he couldn’t get enough air. In the light if the torches Hawke skin was ashen. Bethany reached out a hand to heal him, then Hawke flinch and fade stepped away from her. This startled her as much as it worried her. 

“Hawke your hurt, let me heal you.” Bethany said gently trying not to startle him. Hawke shook his head, and disappeared out the door. Bethany and Varric rushed to the door to follow him. Hawke steps were slightly unsteady, hand trailing along the wall, heading to a closed door. 

The door was locked, and Hawke called out to Varric. Varric gave him a concerned look before kneeling down and picked the lock. It was a simple lock and Varric had it open in a matter of minutes. He pushed it open and Hawke walked past him into the room. The desk with papers on shipments showed it was the Captain’s office. Hawke headed to the chest and searching through it found his pouch and cloak. 

The companions watched him from a distance, and Bethany called, “Hawke, please let us help you. It safe, and we won’t hurt you.”

Hawke took out a rag and wet it with a healing potion, as he said, “I know. I know. I’m not afraid. I can heal myself. I can't start relying on you for help.” He began wiping away the blood from his face, as he cast a healing spell over his wounds. With the combine use of magic and potion the cut and bruises faded under their eyes. He rapped his blue cloak tight around himself and began to feel better. 

Varric was the first one to step up to Hawke, not touching him, but asking gently, “How did you get here?”

“Got caught ... had my magic drained. Then brought here for Reiner to sell me off because I’m the Pirate Slayer.” Hawke vaguely said, as his breathing began to slow. Varric flinched at the name. 

“Why didn’t you escape when you had the chance? You didn’t need to fight. We would have handled it.” Carver asked, arms crossed. 

Hawke gave him a withered look, and said, “Had to save the other mage who had been captured.”

“The abomination?”

“Yes,” Hawke looked away in shame, and picked up his sword staff. 

Bethany caught his shoulder gently and turned him to look at her, as she said, “You couldn’t have done anything to stop it. She made her own choice.”

“I know, but it doesn’t stop it from hurting. I just wish the Circle was safe haven from the horrors of the world instead of the prison it is. Maybe then mages wouldn’t turn out like this.” Hawke said honestly, and he rubbed the back of his neck. 

In a moment of silence, Hawke stepped away and said, “I’m going home.” When Varric and Aveline stepped up to go with him, Hawke held up his hand stopping them. “I’ll go alone. There more slavers out there for you to eliminate. I rather you be doing that instead of trying to coddle me.” 

Without waiting for an answer Hawke walked toward the entrance and closed the door firmly behind himself. It was dawn and the light of the morning sun did nothing to the shadows over Kirkwall. Hawke slid along the walls and headed back down into Dark town. The early morning hours was the only time of day that the Under city was inactive. Hawke had no problems reaching the Pit. The Pit was dark, as all the children were still sleeping. Hawke easily slipped past them and headed toward his mining cart bed. He leaned the sword against it, and unstrapped his belt of potions, laying it down. He climbed the mound of dirt beside the cart and fell into the straw and furs. 

He didn't want anyone to see him like this; Small, weak, and afraid, becuase he wasn't. Hawke curled his cloak around himself forming a tight ball. Tonight he desperately wanted to go to his bed in the mansion. To have the soft sheet fold around him, smelling softly of his mother when she washed them. To have the warmth of the family mabari, Bear, draped over his feet. To hear the distant whispering of the city muffled by a strong wall. He wanted to go back so badly it tore at his heart. Hawke gave a half sob and half whimper. 

“Hawke?” warm arms suddenly encircled him and drew him back against a soft chest.

“Feynriel?” Hawke asked surprised, glancing over his shoulder at the half elf. 

“What happen? Why are you crying?”

Hawke sniffed and said, “I’m not crying. Where have you been? I’ve been looking for you.”

“You have?” Feynriel said in momentary surprise. “Why? You never worried before.”

“That was before you were being hunted by Templars. Of course I was worried.” Hawke snapped. 

“Oh...I’m sorry. But I went searching for the Dalish.”

“The Dalish?”

“Yes, I heard about Merrill’s tribe is staying in the mountains. And I had hoped that they would allow me to apprentice with one of their mages.” Feynriel said hesitantly, hands fingering each other. 

“And why couldn’t you tell me this?” Hawke's voice had a tingle of anger.

“Because I wanted to do it on my own. To prove that I can make my own choices.” Feynriel said firmly, and stubbornly.

“Going alone tends to lead you into trouble. Trust me, you need to relay on your friends.” Hawke replied softly. “You still could have told me. I wouldn't have stopped you.”

“But you were trying to send me away!” Feynriel voice raised, “I don’t want to leave. I want to stay in Kirkwall. I want...” Then his voice trailed off. 

“Feynriel, I know I’m stubborn and bit of a authoritarian. But you can talk to me. I only wanted to give you the best chance at learning to control your abilities, and the mages in Tevinter are the best choice. If you don’t want to go to Tevinter then I won’t make you.” Hawke explained trying to be honest.

Feynriel was quiet a moment before he replied, “Alright, Hawke, I understand.” 

“Good, now I'm going to sleep. In the morning you need to go talk to your mother and tell her what’s happening. I think she sent Bethany and Carver looking for you.” Hawke said as he leaned into Feynriel’s warmth, eyes slowly closing.

“If you say so, Hawke.” Feynriel was humoring him.

“Don’t be like that. She's just worried about you. Don’t push her out of your life just yet. You never know when...*yawn*... you’ll lose her.” Against his will Hawke’s eyes closed and fell asleep. Feynriel cuddled closer and whispered, “Good night, Hawke.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reiner''s evil. I was unsure of if I should put a rape warning, but there was no real rape. It was close but not at the point. Anyway I felt this chapter push Hawke to his limits.   
> I also wanted to explain why Hawke aided the Templar's before and not now. Hope I got my mean across.   
> Anyway, Have A Good Day!


	16. Lost Wolves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A rescue with a unexpected damsel.

“Hold still Hawke or I’m going to cut you,” Isabela held the young mage still as she used iron scissors to cut off a lock of black hair.

“But it tickles.” Hawke squirmed on his stool. “Can you stop touching the back of my neck?”

“Enough, you can’t be that sensitive,” Isabela tapped him on the head with her knuckles. “Why do you want your hair cut anyway? It’s not that long, barely touching your shoulders.” 

“He got called a girl the other day,” Varric said watching them with amusement. 

“Well, you’d be pretty if you let your hair grow out. I could even braid it with ribbons if you want,” Isabela teased, twirling a lock. 

“You can’t see it but I’m giving you both a death glare.” Hawke said as he was facing the wall of Varric's room. “ Any way, I can’t have hair limiting my vision.” 

“Hmm, sure Hawke.” Isabela hummed unconvinced. She pulled Hawke's bangs straight so she could cut them. Hawke froze stiff at the sight of the blades near his face and his breath hitched in his throat. 

“Hawke, what’s wrong?” Isabela asked as she paused lowering the scissors. 

“Nothing... nothing...it’s fine. Just a little nervous about blades being near my face that’s all,” Hawke replied trying to steady his breathing.

Isabela glanced at the pink scar tissue on Hawke’s cheek, and said, “Those are perfectly understandable instincts, dearie.”

“No cute names.” Hawke said as he closed his eyes, “Can we finish this cut, so I don’t look like a Avvar savage, please?”

Isabela smirked an complied, making quick work out of the bangs. She ran her fingers through Hawke hair spiking his bangs up, as she said, “There all done. Now you look like a handsome little man.”

Hawke ran his fingers through his hair and took the mirror Varric held out to him. Hawke stared at himself, and inwardly sighed. The baby face that stared back at him was a bit worn, with dark shadows beginning to form under his eyes and a new scar acrossing his face. He didn’t recognize himself any more. He began to flatten his hair down in the normal style he usually wore. 

“It’ll do. Thank you Isabela,” Hawke smiled at her and brushed off some hair from his shoulder.  
“I don’t know why you had to cut your hair here in my room,” Varric said eyeing the pile of hair on the floor. 

“Well I can’t bring a child into my room. There are things in there that will scar the poor boy.” Isabela said with a quick smile. 

“And I only trust Isabela with a pair of blades near me,” Hawke explained. Then twirling his hand he created a tiny whirl wind and blew the hair out the window. Isabela touched by Hawke’s trust, ruffled his hair again. Hawke batted her hand away only to find her fingers tickling his sides, causing him to laugh in surprise. He rolled away from her fingers but found Isabela had moved with him. 

“Stop it!” Hawke said between giggles, and ducked under the table. 

“Make me!” Isabela laughed and flipped over the table to grab Hawke. Hawke backed up, knocking over a pile of books. 

“Hey! Take it outside you two before you destroy my room," Varric ordered but there was a broad smile on his face. 

“Hawke!” 

They all paused as they heard Hawke’s name being called over and over in the distance accompanied by crying. Hawke didn’t hesitate before he was out of the room and heading towards the tavern floor with Varric and Isabela on his heels. There they found the barkeeper, Corff shouting at Bear who was struggling to hold a crying Kitten and wailing Cub in his arms.

“I know I’m not suppose to be here but I need to find Hawke,” Bear changed his grip on Cub who was trying to pull out of his hold. This statement was accompanied by more shouting from Corff, which caused the toddlers to shout even louder. The patrons began yelling at them to be quiet.

“Well this is chaos,” Varric remarked. Hawke scowled and strode through the gathering crowd and up to Bear.

“Benet Scoke, what in the Maker’s name is going on?” Hawke asked. Isabela picked Kitten from Bear's arms, trying to calm her. With one arm free, Bear rapped Cub in a hug clutching him close. 

Bear looked relieved to see him and said, “Oh, thank the Maker your...” The rest of Bears words were drown out by the patrons shouts. Hawke turned and gave them a fierce scowl but that didn’t deter the drunks. 

Hawke gestured to Varric, “Flash bomb, please. Bear cover Cubs eyes.” Varric fished into his belt and pulled out a small thin tube that he tossed to the center of the room. The resulting flash blinded everyone except those who closed their eyes. The patrons groaned and rubbed at their eyes but it was quieter. 

“Now you lot be quiet! This is an emergency. If you go back to your drinking peacefully and the next round is on Varric.” Hawke shouted, crossing his arms. The patrons settled back into their seat with a bit of grumbling but passively. Kitten hiccuped in Isabella’s arms, while Cub was sucking on his thumb. But Hawke could see the fear in their eyes as so many adults stared at them. 

“Come, lets go up to Varric’s room where there isn’t a audience.” Hawke said waving Bear past him. 

“I don’t want kids in my tavern. This isn’t a nursery.” Corff stated angrily. 

Hawke glanced over his shoulder with a cold stare, and said, “Maybe next time I’ll walk past you getting robbed Corff.”

Corff went red face and was about to make an angry reply when Norah touched Corff's arm halting him. Norah voice was calm as she said, “Let them go Corff. The poor lad had some trouble. Let Hawke deal with it. It’s an emergency and only temporary.”

Hawke nodded his thanks and they all went up to Varric’s room. Cub and Kitten were settled on Varric bed, where they promptly went to sleep. Bear sat on the edge of the bed, his fingers enclosed by Cub’s tiny hand. Hawke pulled up a chair to sit beside him . 

“What happened Bear?” 

Bear looked at him with haunted eyes, and said, “Serena is missing.”

“What? When?” 

“Last night, I ... asked her to marry me and come live with me.” Bear admitted.

Hawke slapped him on the shoulder, “Finally, and she said yes?”

Bear nodded with a blush, “But we don’t have the money for a ring. So Serena went back to her house to retrieve one of her mothers heirlooms that she had hidden. But she didn’t return!”

“How long has she been gone?”

“Several hours. But I know something happened. She would never leave Cub and Kitten alone for so long.” Bear thrust his head into his hands.

“Are you sure she didn’t just get some marriage fright and go into hiding?” Isabela asked. Bear looked up at her with a shattered look. 

Hawke glared at Isabela, and patted Bear's arm gently,“If you had ever seen Song with Bear or the toddlers you would never say that. She loves them all like the sun, moon and stars.”

“She isn’t a person to make rash decisions either.” Varric said. “Where did she live before?”

“Low Town with her father. That fat bastard used to beat her, so she never stayed at home and wandered the streets. She ... prostituted herself to get money. When one of her friends got pregnant and died giving birth to Cub and Kitten she adopted them. But her father thought they were hers and cast her out. She told me she lived inconstant fear of rape in Dark town. At least until she found Hawke and the safety of the Pit.” Bear explained, with a shadowed expression. “I don’t know where she lived before. But I think her father name is Harmon Floch.” 

“Oh...him,” Varric said with a scowl, fingering Bianca.

Hawke turned to Varric and asked, “ You know him?”

Varric waved his hand, “Floch is a small time merchant in wine shipping. Though he tends to sample more of his cargo than is allowed. He’s in debt right now with the Coterie.”

“You think he might have done something to Serena if he found her?” Bear asked, clenching his teeth. 

“We don’t know what happened, but we’re going to find out.” Hawke said standing. “Lets get Aveline she can get us into Floch house so we can interrogate him.”

“I’m coming with you,” Bear said firmly.

“No.” Hawke replied glancing at him.

“She is my fiancee. I’m going to find her and keep her safe!”

“No, you have to take care of Cub and Kitten.” Hawke gestured at the sleeping twins. 

“But...”

“There are more important things than you proving your masculinity. You are an adult now. You have responsibilities and one of those is taking care of the little ones.” Hawke said sternly. Bear’s shoulders slumped, and Hawke tapped his arm. “This is important and Song would trust only you to care for them.”

Varric said, “Trust us, we’ll get her back. You can stay here until we do. I’ll pay Corff extra to keep him quiet. Since it seems I’ll be paying for a round of house drinks.” 

Hawke shrugged and said, “ I couldn’t say I’d pay for it. And I’ll pay you back.”

“Okay, but Hawke if you can’t find her alive. I want Floch dead.” Bear stated in a hard tone.

Hawke met his hard gaze with one of his own and said, “Of course.”

\-----

Aveline rubbed her forehead, looking at the entrance to Floch house, and said, “You know I can’t interrogate a man because his daughter has been missing for a couple of hours.”

Hawke crossed his arms, “How about this then? She’s been missing for several months. Serena hadn’t returned to this house since I met her, and probably even before then.”

“That’ll work. But your going to have to stay out here Hawke. I can’t look professional with a child following me around.” 

“Very well, but if he’s being difficult call me in. I’ll pick his brains with magic.” Hawke stated, and leaned back into the shadows.

“You can do that?” Isabela asked startled. 

“It’s not a talent I’m good at and I feel disgusting afterwards. But sometimes you have to get information, and it’s less messy than beating it out of them.” Hawke shrugged. 

Aveline covered her eyes, “Why do you make comments that make me worry about you all the time?”

“You asked. We’ve lost enough time. The sooner we find Song the better.”

Aveline scrubbed her face and turned to the door, saying, “Right.”

It wasn’t twenty minutes later that Aveline returned with bloody and bruised knuckles. Hawke reached up and gently healed them saying, “You didn’t call me.”

“Sometimes you just need to hit a man to get him to talk.” Aveline said darkly. 

“So?”

“He sold her to slavers to pay off his debts. There’s going to be a small auction in Darktown docks before they are going to be moved.” Varric explained. “It’ll happen at midnight.”

“Good that’ll give me enough time to stop by the Pit and put on my armor.” Hawke said and walked out of the dark shadows through Low Town. “Do you want to come with me or shall I meet you there.”

“We’ll come. It’s better to stay together.” Aveline said, walking by his side.

“How many times did you hit him?” Hawke asked.

Aveline scowl harden and she said, “Enough. But he deserves more. I’ll be back with the guards to arrest him for slavery.”

“Good. I’d rather Song not live in fear of him anymore.” 

\-----

It was discreet but a small crowd of people had begun forming in the Dark Town docks. A wooden stage had been quickly assembled at the top of the docks. Five boats of different sizes were tied to the dock, manned by a couple of men. Hawke and his companions sat in the shadows at the top of the stairs over looking the dock area. Standing in his cloak beside Varric, Hawke looked like another dwarf. 

“I’d like to burn down these docks one day. So much trouble happen here.” Hawke thought, as he stared down at the crowd. 

Isabela was tapping her knife against the railing, and Aveline snarled, “Will you stop that?”

“A little edgy aren’t you guards woman?” Isabela smirked at Aveline and pointed her knife at her. “Can’t take a little tension? Relax, this is a simple swipe and run.”

“I’d rather arrest them all with a squad of guards,” Aveline snarled, knocking the knife away. 

“Enough,” Hawke said firmly. “We talked about this. There no guarantee that Song won’t be killed if the auction is interrupted. We’ll find Song and take her back when she is being transported. It’s a quick and silent operation.” Aveline and Isabela fell silent but continued to glare at each other. 

Hawke sighed inwardly and thought, “Why must these two always bash heads before the fighting starts? It’s like a dog and cat in the same room, they can’t help but fight.”

Then there was movement on the stage and everyone focused there. A slaver with a raven feather mask stepped into the center of the stage and gave a dramatic bow. 

“Greetings, I am the Slave Master. Thank you for coming to our prompt auction. There are some goods that need to be sold.” The slavers voice was low and gruff but carried across the crowd. “Since this is rushed there will be special prices on the goods for sale. Now lets bring out the goods.”

“Goods, those are people.” Isabela snarled.

Aveline nodded, and said, “For once we agree.”

Hawke gestured at them to be silent, as the first man in chains was brought onto the stage. The slave master began calling prices as hands went into the air. Hawke gritted his teeth as the man was sold and pulled onto a waiting boat. Another man and woman were pulled on to the stage. He wanted to save them all, but it was too much of a risk. He noted where the slaves were being pulled from.

“Now, we have a rare good with us today,” the slaver announced, and gestured with his hand. Hawke's mouth dropped open when he saw the chained qunari being dragged on to the stage. The crowd fell into rough whispers that combined into a loud clamor. 

“Is that...?” Varric asked leaning on the railing to get a better look.

“Yes,” Hawke replied. “A Saarebas.” 

He knew this qunari as well. It was the qunari called Ketojan, that Sister Petrice had taken and had asked Hawke to escort him to freedom. Except he learned that the whole thing is a set up, so Hawke would be killed by the Qunari and enrage those who oppose the Qunari's presence.

“The Qunari aren’t going to be pleased about this.” Varric remarked.

“Isn’t that an understatement,” Hawke thought, and then said. “It seem’s like we are going to have to act sooner rather than later.”

“May I introduce you to Ketojan, a qunari mage,” the feather masked slaver said with a smirk. There were shouts from the crowd and the slave master gestured with his hands for silence.

“Yes, yes. I know what you are thinking aren’t mages dangerous and qunari even more deadly. But I assure you Ketojan is harmless. Observe.” The slaver turned and addressed the qunari like a dog, “Ketojan, sit!”

Ketojan knelt down on the stage and the slavers smile widened. “You see, he’s as obedient as a dog. The Qunari train their mage to be submissive and bind them in chains.” He tugged on Ketojan chain, forcing him onto his hands. Hawke saw a flash of pointed teeth as Ketojan snarled. 

“Now lets start the bidding at 200 silvers!”

“Fool, he’s going to start a war in the city over a bit of coin,” Hawke growled as the bidding began.

“What?” Aveline asked, “Over a single qunari? But other qunari have left or gone missing and they didn’t care.”

“The Qunari are very aggressive about their control of their mages. If a Saarebas is separated from their keeper, they must be slain, or commit suicide. The Qunari will be after him.” Hawke explained. 

“That’s just great,” Aveline remarked.

“How do we know he can do magic?” someone suddenly shouted. “If your charging so much for him, he’d better be worth it!” 

The crowd attention turned to the slave master. The man cleared his throat and said, “Of course he can do magic. Ketojan, spell!” The qunari didn’t move to comply with the order and sat staring at nothing.

“Ketojan, fire spell,” the slaver ordered again. But Ketojan continued to sit and only his chest moved as he breathed. A couple of people in the crowd chuckled. 

The slaver clenched his jaw and grabbed his whip from his belt, as he ordered, “Cast a fire spell, Ketojan.” When Ketojan didn’t react to the order, the slaver snapped his whip across the qunari’s chest. Ketojan hissed in pain, but didn’t move as a red mark appeared across his chest. 

“Now use your magic you hornless dog!” the slave master roared but Ketojan growled back at him. This time the slave master’s whip caught Ketojan across the face, knocking his broken mask off and relieved his sown closed eyelids. 

Ketojan rose with a roar, and threw lightning at the slave master hitting him in the chest knocking him off the stage. People in the crowd screamed and moved away from the enraged qunari. 

“By the Void! Kill it! Kill it!” one of the slavers yelled. Two slaver guards drew their weapons and moved to attack but were stabbed by the points of a frozen wall. 

“Well there goes stealth and speed.” Hawke said calmly. He was used to planning in the moment. He pointed at the door left of the stage, ordering Aveline and Isabela to go after the slaves. 

“Varric and I will cover you until you get there. Kill the slavers and protect the slaves. Find Song and keep her by your side. Now go!” Hawke ordered. Aveline led the charge through the crowd of people as Isabela followed behind heading directly toward the door. 

Hawke kept Ketojan’s attacks from hitting the retreating crowd. He didn’t particularly care about people trying to buy slaves but he didn’t want anyone saying they were attacked by a Qunari mage. Varric raised Bianca to begin shooting. 

“Varric, don’t shoot the Saarebas. Just eliminate the slavers, please.”

“And how are you going to stop this rampage then?” Varric asked as a lightning bolt hit the wall bellow them. 

“This is hardly a rampage. He’s only shooting randomly.” 

“Hardly a rampage?” Varric said doubtfully. 

“Don’t worry. I’ll deal with him. You just keep the slavers from attacking him or me.” Hawke stated, as he began to walk slowly down the stairs focusing on blocking any stray attacks. 

When the crowd vanished down the tunnels, Hawke was free to approach the stage with Varric at his back. He pushed back his hood so he could see. A rogue slaver shouted at them before Varric shot him down. Suddenly Ketojan began a storm of lightning, filling the space with streaks of lightning. Hawke created a barrier around Varric and himself, but continued his steady pace towards Ketojan. Varric watch awed as it seemed like the lightning parted like a stream around a rock. While it was only a short distance to the stage it seemed to take far longer.

When they were in hearing distance, Hawke called out, “Saarebaskost.” Ketojan froze in the middle of casting and the lightning abruptly stopped. Hawke stepped on to the stage, with Varric targeting Ketojan with Bianca. Hawke tapped Bianca and shook his head. He gestured for Varric to stay in position as he approached the chained qunari. 

“Saarebaskost,” Hawke said again and Ketojan gaze focused on Hawke’s approach. The stitched closed eyelids unnerved Hawke and he turned his gaze away. Then he noticed the mask and he picked it up, thankful it was in one piece. Hawke continued moving at a steady pace so not to startle the Qunari until he stood right before him. Ketojan stared at the air right above him, where he thought Hawke’s face would be. 

“Saarebas, I am Hawke,” he introduced himself. Ketojan glanced down, surprise crossing his face for a moment when he realized how short Hawke was. “I saw your plight and came to your aid. The danger is over, you have nothing to fear.” He glanced at Varric who confirmed his words with a signal for the all clear. 

When Ketojan didn’t react, Hawke asked gently, “ Saarebas, I need you to kneel for me so I can heal you’re wounds.” Ketojan knelt placing his hands on his knees. Hawke winced in sympathy at the red welt across his chest. Ketojan flinched at the touch of the healing spell but did not move again until Hawke was finished.

Hawke nearly jumped when Ketojan's clawed hand closed around his own. Ketojan felt Hawke’s baby soft skin, and placed it against his palm as if measuring the size. Hawke giggled as Ketojan's hand dwarfed his own. 

Realizing what Ketojan was wondering, Hawke said, “That’s right I’m small. I’m a human child.”

Ketojan quickly dropped Hawke's hand like he couldn't touch him and moved to stand. But Hawke stopped him by grabbing his arm, saying, “Stay. I’m not done looking at your wounds.” 

Hawke reached up to touch the welt on Ketojan face, gently healing it along with swollen lips and torn eyelids. Ketojan leaned into Hawke’s touch like a beaten dog needing a bit of kindness. The touch only lasted a moment before Ketojan stiffen and pulled away. 

Hawke gently brought up the mask and placed it back on Ketojan, “There all done.” He turned back to look at Varric who stared at him open mouthed.

“Hawke, if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes I wouldn’t have believed it. But you stopped a Qunari rampage without a single attack. Nobody is going to believe me if I tell this story,” Varric said bewildered. 

“Qunari are mortal like the rest of us. If you take the time to talk to them they are reasonable. Sort of...” Hawke replied as Ketojan stood up. 

“Hawke!” Isabela called from the door. Beside her stood Song, dressed only in a rag, and clinging to her arm. 

“Song!” Hawke rushed over to her with Ketojan following his every step. When she saw Hawke, Song dived for him crushing him in a hug. 

“Hawke...Hawke,” she sobbed into his neck, clinging to him. 

Hawke rubbed her back, giving her soothing words, “It’s alright, Serena. It’s safe, you’re safe.”

“Hawke... I hoped and prayed to the Maker you would come for me. And you...” Song continued crying tears of relief. Hawke untied his cloak and wrapped it around Song body. He checked her for wounds and found a couple of bruises. 

Hawke looked over to Isabela, and asked, “The slavers and slaves?”

“Aveline is freeing the slaves as we speak. Most of the slavers ran as soon as we appeared.” Isabela reported.

“Then I need you to go after them, Isabela. I don’t want to see them in the city ever again. But don’t take any risks. If you can’t get them, find where they are hiding and tell Aveline.” Hawke ordered, and Isabela nodded before disappearing into the tunnels. 

“Varric I need you to go topside and report what happened to the first guard you see. Aveline is going to need some back up. Song, Serena. I need you to go with Varric. Can you do that? He’ll take you to Bear, Cub and Kitten. They’re waiting for you.” Hawke asked gently. Song sniffed and nodded, standing back up on her own but clung to Hawke’s cloak. 

“And what are you going to be doing?” Varric asked eyeing Ketojan's looming form. 

“I’ll be taking this big guy back to his people.” Hawke saw Varric's worried look and continued. “They’re not going to see me. I’ll take him to where the qunari can find him and then disappear. It’ll be fine, Varric.”

“If you say so, Hawke.” 

“Go on. I’ll meet you both back at the Hanged Man.” Hawke made a shooing gesture at them. 

“Stay safe, Hawke.” Song said as she followed Varric up the stairs. 

Hawke looked up at Ketojan, saying, “Come along, Saarebas, lets find you’re Arvaarad.” Hawke led him into the tunnels of Dark Town. Since living in Dark Town, Hawke had explored the endless mining tunnels mapping their passages. He went towards one of the tunnels that exited onto the Wounded Coast where he knew there would be a group of Qunari searching. He had encounter them before and attempted to keep Ketojan safe from them, only to have Ketojan kill himself once he was free. 

But now he has no evidence Sister Patricia had planned this. He would have to be weary of her involvement in the campaign against the Qunari. He knew she saw the Qunari as a threat to her belief and wanted them eliminated. Hawke himself just wanted them gone without blood shed this time. He’d rather keep the nobles alive and not have to deal with a civil war that would nearly destroy the city. 

They reach the cave entrance and the sun was just rising into the sky. Hawke stopped Ketojan before they exited the cave. Hawke peeked out of the cave. The sun’s rays temporally blinded him after being in the dark tunnels so long. When his eyes adjusted he saw a group of qunari sitting around a camp fire and a pot of boiling water. Hawke ducked back inside before they spotted him.

“This is where we part Saarebas. There a bunch of Qunari just outside. All you have to do is walk forward and they’ll see you.” Hawke said, and touched Ketojan to guide him to the entrance. He was surprised when Ketojan knelt down. Ketojan slowly reached out to touch Hawke's face, and began mapping his appearance with touch. Hawke felt how gentle Ketojan was trying to be and leaned into Ketojan's touch. 

“I wish you weren’t so committed to following the Qun and you’re death. I hate a wasted life.” Hawke said as he broke away from Ketojan’s touch. “If you get the chance, tell your Arvaarad what happen. You need to warn them that someone is trying to start a war with them.” 

Ketojan stood up but didn’t move. Hawke grabbed his legs from behind and directed him toward the entrance. It was almost comical for his tiny figure moving the giant like a puppet. He gave Ketojan a gentle push, saying, “Go on.”

Ketojan stepped forward on his own but glanced back at Hawke. Hawke waved him onwards saying, “May you find peace in the Qun.”

Ketojan walk forward, disappearing into the light. Hawke turned away, slipping back into the shadows of the tunnels. He didn’t want to know what would happen to Ketojan. He witnessed his death once and didn’t need to see it again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know that no mater what you do Ketojan dies. But I really want to save Ketojan, so I left the chapter a bit open ended. Comment below if you want to see Ketojan return in a later chapter.  
> Anyway, Have a Good Day.


	17. Ruins and Dragons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Children are getting kidnapped. What Hawke's going to do when he get kidnapped as well, and find himself in a underground ruin?

Ruins 

Hawke sat across from Aveline in her Office with his arms crossed and a firm scowl across his face. “Children have been going missing, Aveline. Nug and Cat have disappeared just this week. Before that Ram. I’ve also heard that other Low Town children have gone missing, several over the past month.” 

Aveline covered her eyes with her hands trying to ease the headache she was experiencing, and she said, “Yes, Hawke I know. I have men on it, but we’re stretched thin at the moment. With the Viscount's son missing there are a ton of vagabonds running about for the reward. I have more problems trying to keep them in line than finding Seamus.”

“He’s on the coast with a qunari named Ashaad. Leave it to Bethany and Carver, they should be capable of bringing him back.” Hawke stated blankly. 

“What? He’s been kidnapped by the Qunari? And how do you know this?” Aveline smacked the table with her hand. 

Hawke made a face, and said, “No, the Qunari have not kidnapped him. Seamus went willingly, and Ashaad is his friend. I’ve been delivering messages between the two of them for the past week. Though if any mercenaries get hold of him, he may become a hostage.”

“Maker save me, your right. Roark!” Aveline shouted and a guard poked his head into the office. “Send a message to the Amell Twin’s and get them here today!” 

“Captain, I saw the Amell’s talking to Seneschal Bran just a few minutes ago. They are going out to the Wounded Coast to find the Viscount son and get the reward.” The guard replied glancing at Hawke then at Aveline.

“Fine, good. Your dismissed.” Aveline waved him away seeing his glance. “I don’t know how you do it Hawke. Your always better informed than I am and I have informants. Sometimes I wonder if you can see the future.”

“Focus, missing children.” Hawke tapped his fingers against his arm. 

“I don’t know what you want from me Hawke. I can’t even begin searching for them without even knowing their names.” 

“Rubin Stonegrinder, dwarf, age 15. Caitlin Briggs, human, age 13. Nigel, human, age 10.” Hawke took out a folded parchment from under his belt, and laid it on the desk. “That is a detailed list of each of the children missing. Their names, race and age along with a short physical description. Thats all the information I have found so far by asking around Lowtown. Varric and I are certain they aren’t in the city.”

Aveline picked up the piece of parchment, “Hawke this is...”

Hawke interrupted her, “I’m not here to judge or pressure you into anything. I’m here to tell you I’m going after them.”

Aveline looked up startled, and asked, “How? You don’t know where they are.”

“I’m going to get kidnapped.” 

“No.” Aveline said firmly, slamming her hand on the desk. 

“Aveline, this isn’t up for debate.” Hawke said as he stood up and didn’t even flinch as Aveline grabbed his arm.

Aveline gaze burned, “Why do you always do this? You make plans that put you in danger and then go charging off at the head.”

“Because that’s the only way I know how to do things.” Hawke shrugged meeting Aveline’s gaze. 

“And you won’t even ask for help! Or let others do the dangerous work.”

Hawke gave her a smile, and said “But that’s why I’m here Aveline. I need your help, or at least the Guards help. Varric and Isabela are going to track me when I get kidnaped. Once they discover where the children are being taken, they’ll report to you. Then you can bring the Guards down on them and arrest their ass.” 

Aveline loosened her grip on him as she watched his face, and she said, “Why does it have to be you, Hawke?”

“You know why.” Hawke replied, and patted her hand. “I want my kids back, Aveline.”

“You make it sound like you have children, Hawke,”Aveline chuckled, and then sighed. “Why do you have to be so adult, Hawke?” She gently punched his chin. 

“I like to think I have a old soul,” Hawke replied with a small smile. 

Aveline let him go, saying, “Have it your way, Hawke. Just tell me when you are planning this daring adventure.”

“Tonight, unless the Twin’s took Varric or Isabela with them.” 

\-----

“Give me all your coins...arg!” the would be thief fell to the ground twitching. 

Hawke’s stepped over him seeing red and stormed back toward the Hanged Man. Isabela and Varric materialized out of the shadows, following him and trying to hide their laughter. Hawke threw open the tavern door so hard the resulting slam caused everyone to jump. The patrons stared as the little mage stomped towards a empty table and threw himself in a chair. Varric sat beside him with a grin while Isabela went over to the bar to get some drinks. 

“I don’t know what your smiling about. Tonight was another failure!” Hawke snapped at the dwarf.

“Aye, but I can’t help it. Every time I see you turn on a thief, their face ... it’s just priceless. Ha!” Varric chuckled. “Like that one with the goatee. He squealed like a Nug as you chased him down the street.”

Isabela laughed as she put down the mugs and said, “I like the guy who screamed ‘Oh my chestnuts are burning!’” 

“It’s still wasted time!” Hawke took a mug only to have Isabela swipe it back and pass him a cup of fruit juice. “Oh, come on. I deserve a drink of ale after five nights of this.”

“No ale till you have chest hair, Hawke.” Varric waved his finger. “Anyway I think your doing more for Low Town than Aveline’s Guard patrols. I think every thief in Low Town will be staying home for the next few days recovering.”

“And I still haven’t found them! The one time I actually want to be kidnaped, it doesn’t happen.” Hawke nearly shouted. “I search all night and barely get any rest. When I find them I’m stripping them of all they own to pay for the loss in my business.”

“Ah, I see the problem. You’re trying too hard.”

“That doesn’t make any sense. You don’t earn anything if you don’t work hard. So how does working too hard keep you from your goal?” 

Varric took a gulp of his ale, and said, “You’re wearing yourself out, Hawke. Why don’t you take the day off and get some rest. Then we’ll try a different way of finding where the kids are disappearing to.”

Hawke slid back in his chair crossing his arms, and grumbled, “This was suppose to work.”

Isabela chuckled and ruffled his hair, “Aw, you look so cute when you pout like that, baby.”

Hawke scowled at her and flung her hand away, “I am not a baby. And I am anything but cute.”

Isabela held up her hand in submission, “Don’t get your panties in a twist. I was just joking, Hawke.”

Hawke scrubbed his face with his hand, “Your probably right, Varric.”

“It occasionally happens.”

“I’ll go back to the Pit and get some sleep.” Hawke sat up and put the cup down, as he grumbled. “Why do children's bodies have to get eight to ten hours of sleep? So inconvenient.” 

Hawke left Varric and Isabela chuckling into their drinks, and walked out of the tavern. It was so early that it was still considered late, and the streets were empty. Hawke didn’t try to hide himself, after their search there wasn’t any thieves to come after him. Not that he minded, beating his frustrations out on thieves and gangs was the only positive thing about their nightly searches. He carefully walked down the steps to Dark Town, and gave a large yawn.

As he turned the corner to head into the tunnels, Hawke felt like he couldn’t keep his eyes open. He stumbled against the wall trying to keep himself up right. Fighting sleep, Hawke forced his eyes open and he saw the glow of a Sleeping Glyph along with a robed figure. Panicking Hawke tried to take a step back to get off the Glyph, and tripped on a rock. He knocked his head against the ground and fell into darkness. 

\----- 

The headache that Hawke woke up to made him regret coming back into consciousness. He found himself laying in a cot bed covered in a rough blanket. Over the other way he woke up after knocked out, this was the better option. He sat up rubbing his head, and easing the pain with a healing spell. 

“Ha! Wish I could do that every time I have a hang over. Can you do that, Wenlock?” Hawke turned to see a dwarf sitting in a chair staring at him. His beard was a dark brown bush of locks that covered everything except two pale green eyes. 

A handsome robed man stood against the wall flipping through a book and staff in the crook of his arm, saying, “I choose to put my talents to better use.”

Hawke looked down at his hands surprised to find he wasn’t tied down or restrained in anyway. He raised his hand beginning to cast a spell only to find it backlash at him. He hissed in pain and lowered his hand as the dispel rune disappeared 

The mage Wenlock lowered his staff, saying, “None of that. I’m far more powerful than you and I can crush you if you try to push me.”

Hawke scowled, and crossed his arms in a gesture of stubborn submission. He didn’t know what was going on, or where he was. So he asked, “Who are you? And what do you want?”

“Ha! I like you kid!” The dwarf laughed. “You know you’re the second one who wasn’t bewildered, terrified or crying when you woke up. It’s a nice change of pace.”

“You still haven’t answered my question.” Hawke pointed out and swung himself out of the bed. 

“It’s only polite to introduce yourself first before you demand another's name,” the dwarf watched him with an estimating gaze.

“Seeing how you kidnapped me, I think you already know who I am.” Hawke stood before them stance confident and demanding. 

“True,” the dwarf snickered, then gestured at himself. “The names Bolivar. No use for a surname seeing as I’ve been cast out.”

“Greetings, Bolivar, and Wenlock. Now let me go.”

“But you just got here, and you’ve been searching so hard for us.” Bolivar stood up and surprising was taller than Hawke. He rapped an thick arm around Hawke’s shoulders, and was too strong for Hawke to shake off. 

“What have you done with the other children?” Hawke demanded still struggling but Bolivar pinched his shoulder. 

“Oh, so eager to see your friends. Let me show you.” Bolivar guided him to a door that magically swung open. Bolivar suddenly pushed him through the door. Hawke found himself flung down some steps, and had enough time to roll into a ball to soften the fall. Covered in dirt, Hawke turned in time to see the door close with a slam. 

A slot opened and Bolivar said, “So sorry about that Hawke, but here’s the thing. Do you see the stone behind you?”

The light of the window was enough for Hawke to see a large yellow grey stone behind him, and Bolivar continued, “That is what we dwarf’s call Quartz sandstone. It’s the hardest type of stone in Thedas, and impossible to mine through. Behind it is a dwarf ruin with untold wealth hidden behind it. So you see my problem. But there is an opening in the stone just big enough for a small child to get through. So here’s the thing Hawke. You go through and find me some relic, gold, armor, anything. If you find something of worth then I’ll let you out. How does that sound?”

Hawke felt his blood boil and he screamed, “You bastard!” He threw a fire ball at the door, but it hit a barrier and dissipated. 

“Oh, Hawke. It’s not that easy. Why do you think I employ an apostate?” Bolivar commented with a laugh. “The only way out of this place is through that hole. You’ll find food and water in this cave every day. I’d give you a torch but you’re a resourceful lad. Now go and get me some riches.” He closed the slot with another laugh and plunged Hawke into darkness.

“I really hate that dwarf.” Hawke mumbled, as he fumbled with his belt. He was surprised to find most of his equipment still with him, and quickly pulled out his broken staff head. With a simple force of will, his staff began to glow with a yellow light. Hawke glanced back towards the ward. He was certain he would be able to break through it once he examined it closely. 

“But first things first; I have to find the children and bring them back here safely,” he thought to himself. Hawke turned and made his way towards the back wall. There low to the ground was a small opening. He would have to belly crawl to get through it. Hawke wrapped his arms in his cloak, to keep them from getting cut on rocks, and crouched down on his belly.

It was a slow crawl as he wasn’t sure how far he had to go. But after a couple of minutes the light of his staff showed a opening. Hawke shuffled forward, and slid himself out of the crack. Standing up he shined his light around and he found himself in a large tunnel. At the edge of his light he could see the rough stone walls enclosing the tunnel to the right. But only darkness lay to the left. He began to follow the edge of the wall, walking close so he had some protection against things attacking him. 

He was weary of every shadow, so he was on alert when a tiny figure tried to grab him as he passed. Hawke knocked the hands away and pushed the figure against the wall. He was surprised to see the terrified young face of Nug. Hawke instantly let him go only to have Nug latch onto his arms. Nug's mouth open and closed in wordless terror.

“Nigel, I need you to take a deep breath before you pass out on me,” Hawke steadied the thin boy. Nug’s entire body shivered as he took gasping breaths, eyes still wide with fear. “Steady, steady. In, breathe, and out, breathe. I’ve got you.”

“Hawke...” Nug sobbed and clenched him tighter to the point it was painful. Hawke patted his arm awkwardly, letting him cry. 

“There, there. It’ll be alright, we'll get out of here.” 

Nug looked down at him with wide red rimmed eyes and asked, “How? Your stuck down here as well.”

“Not exactly. I can break through that mage’s ward. But I need to find all the children before I do.” Hawke explained. “Where have they gone?”

“They left to find some treasure. Ram said they could find something because the Deep Roads are filled with treasure. But I didn’t want to go. So they left me.” Nug sobbed again into Hawke's cloak. 

“Damn, can’t make it easy on me. How long ago did they leave?” 

“I don’t know. I don’t know. There is no light anymore. I’m afraid to move. I can’t move.” Nug began to breathe rapidly. Hawke pulled himself out of Nug’s grip, settling him on the ground of the tunnel. Hawke unpinned his cloak and rapped it around Nug. It calmed him, but Nug was still trembling, clenching his arms. That was when he noticed the bruises on his arms. 

Hawke spoke softly, “You don’t have to move if you don’t want to. But I have to find the other children.”

“No!” Nug grabbed Hawke’s arm again. “I don’t want to be alone! I don’t want to be left in the dark anymore.”

“Hush. I won’t leave you in the dark.” Hawke held out his staff head to Nug. “Hear, hold this. I enchanted it to emit light, and so long as you are near me it will glow.” Nug took the staff head and held it between his hands staring at the glow. 

His features eased but suddenly he looked up and asked, “You don’t need this?”

“Don’t worry, I don't need a staff to use magic,” Hawke laughed, and with a flick of his wrist his hand began to glow. 

Nug stared at him with awe and said, “I wish I had magic.”

“You are probably the first person I know who has wished that,” Hawke said with a smile. “Now come on. The faster we find the others, the faster we can get out of here.” Nug slowly nodded and stood up. 

Hawke led the way down the tunnel, with Nug following so close he occasionally stepped on Hawke’s heels. Nug kept flashing the light behind them, casting shadows across the walls that played with Hawke’s mind. Suddenly the tunnel opened up into a gigantic cavern lite with yellow glow of magma. A waterfall of magma followed in the distance. Stalagmites hung from the roof like jagged teeth. Nug stood mouth open staring at the scene with awe. Hawke nudged him and continued forward.

Suddenly children screaming along with hissing and snarling echoed through the cave. Hawke raced through the darkness toward the sounds. He drew his stone armor around him as he ran. In seconds he saw the forms of deep stalkers surrounding five children. Hawke roared a battle cry and charged forward collecting magic into his hand. Without his staff it was hard to focus his magic but here he didn’t need to. He lashed out with a large ice spell sweeping over the group of deep stalkers and stopping just short of the children. 

“Move!” Hawke shouted, and pointed at a mound of stones that was easier to defend. While the deep stalkers were temporality immobile, the children raced towards the mound. Hawke began flashing spirit bolts at any deep stalker who moved toward the retreating children. As soon as they were on the mound, Hawke began to move to join them. 

He nearly stumbled over Nug and he snarled at him, “Get over there!” Nug raced off clutching Hawke staff head in his hands. Hawke didn’t have time to regret giving it to him as the deep stalkers turned on him. Hawke dodged a the fangs of a leaping stalker, and heard the sound of scraping claws on his stone armor. He was surrounded by the horde, all of them snapping and hissing at him.

“That works out perfectly.” Hawke said aloud. He always had to make sure he didn’t hit any of his team when he released large scale spells. But here he set no limits, spinning his hands around his head letting a couple of claws hit him. 

In the middle of his chant a deep stalker leaped on him, trying to claw through the stone armor. Hawke reached up with a stone covered hand and grabbed the deep stalker’s neck. It squawked and squirmed as Hawke slammed it down onto the ground forcing his magic through the deep stalker. A wave a small but sharp stone spears broke from the ground in a circle around Hawke. His hand was covered in blood from the crushed deep stalker.

Gaining some space but weakened he flashed a couple of spirit bolts at the remaining deep stalkers. He heard a shout and noticed that a couple of deep stalkers had retreated away from him and when after the children trying to climb the mound. Ram bashed one deep stalker’s head in with a small hammer. Hawke took a deep breath and released a rain of lightning on the deepstalkers. With a large number of their brethren dead, the remaining few deep stalkers turned and fled into the darkness. 

The children cheered and Hawke breathing heavily raised only his fist in triumph. The children crawled down the mound and rushed to meet him. Cat threw herself first at him, nearly knocking him over. Ram crushed them both in a hug only a dwarf can do. The other three children were all trying to speak at once, patting him on the back or the head. 

Hawke struggled out of their grip, and said, “Quiet! Do you want to bring more enemies toward us?” The children went silent in a instant, and stared into the darkness. Hawke gestured to them and led them toward a small grove in a stalactite that would provide some protection from ambushes. 

“Hawke, what are you doing here?” Ram asked quietly.

“I came to find you. Got myself kidnaped in the process. But I can get us out of here.” Hawke replied, and felt Nug grab his shoulder. 

“And Nug what are you doing here? I thought I told you to stay put so we could find our way back.” Nug flinched at Rams tone. 

Hawke eyes flashed angrily, “Why did you leave him alone in the dark in the first place?”

Ram blinked startled at being the target of Hawke’s anger, “He had to stay by the hole so he could retrieve our food and not lose the entrance. We left him a torch.”

“And how long did you think that was going to last? And why couldn’t one of you have stayed with him?” Hawke stared at all the children with a hard gaze. “You stay together no matter what. You never leave someone behind.”

The children didn’t meet his eyes except Ram, each showing a mixture of misery and guilt. Ram was angry that he was getting a lecture when he thought he hadn’t done anything wrong. Nug gripped Hawke shoulder tighten a moment. And Ram saw the bruises on Nug’s arms and recognized the outline of fingers. Hawke had left them there for that reason. 

Suddenly Hawke felt a murderous presence near him and immediately raised his barrier. He felt a impact against his shield, and spinning around raised his hand to cast. 

“Ow...” a voice echoed in the darkness. Nug turned his light out into the darkness revealing a small form sprawled out on their back. 

“I’m sorry, you caught me off guard,” Hawke began saying when the figure suddenly jumped up. 

A red hair boy was suddenly in his personal space staring at him with a wide grin. He said, “Amazing! You just waved your hand and ...bam! Can you even do that in your sleep?”

Hawke stepped back and asked, “Who are you?” The boy was the same height as him and stared at him with strange misch matching eyes. Not afraid but wide pupils of someone used to staring into darkness. 

“Ah, where are my manners. Introductions.” The boy spun away then gave a wide arm bow. “You may call me Red.”

“I know what I can call you, murderer.” Ram said pointing his hammer at the strange boy. “We saw what you did to those other kids.”

Red held up his empty hands, “Purely a misunderstanding. They were already dead when I found them. Then you came up and chased me off. I didn’t even get a chance to look for food. On that note, can I have some? I’m starving.”

“We’re not giving a killer our food.” Ram declared. 

“Come on. Aren't we all brothers and sisters here?” As he spoke Red darted to the side. “All in the same boat or cave in this case.” Red continued to move, flipping off the wall. Hawke watched his every move. He recognized the trained movements of an assassin. He couldn’t determine the truth of either story until he saw the bodies and he didn’t have time for that. But Hawke wouldn’t leave anyone in the Deep Roads alone. That was a fate he wouldn’t wish on his worse enemy. 

“Maybe Corypheus,” he thought and dug into his belt and pulled out the rations he always carried. “Here.” Hawke tossed them to Red, who easily caught them.

“Hawke!” Ram cried indigently. Red stuck his tongue out at him and began to eat quickly.

“We aren’t going to leave anyone behind, Ram.” Hawke said and fixed Red with a glare. “But if you harm any of us, I will freeze your ass to the wall and leave you for the dark spawn.”

Red wiped his face with his hand and said, “Right, Brother!”He began cutting a piece of cheese with a long dagger. Hawke stared at the dagger recognizing the dwarven runes carved on it. 

Hawke leaned closer and asked, “Where did you get those daggers?”

Red spun the blade, and said, “Oh these? Found them on some dead dwarves. Some very dead dwarves. I didn’t kill them.”

“I never said you did, Red.”

“You didn’t.” Red stared at Ram, and Hawke realized he was scowling back. Hawke elbowed Ram, causing the young dwarf to groan. A smile broke out on Red's face and he stood again, spinning the daggers in his hands.

“Can you bring us to where you found them?” Hawke asked. 

“Why?” both Ram and Red asked at the same time. 

“Well, I’d like to get some reward for this mess. And I doubt that dwarf, Bolivar, has anything of worth.” Hawke said honestly. 

“Oh sure, there’s tons of treasure over there.” Red gestured to the right with the dagger. “Some weird stuff too.”

“Wait you found some treasure and you didn’t bring any to get us out of here?” Ram asked hotly. 

Red shrugged, “I was lost. Couldn’t find that little hole to crawl out of.” 

“Well, lets collect it. Maybe we'll find some weapons to protect our selves if we get attacked again.” Hawke said gesturing to Red. “Out front Red, where I can see you.” Hawke flicked his wrist and let his hand glow. He directed the glow in front of him. 

“Bedevil! Thats quite the trick.” Red danced around Hawke, staring at his hand. Hawke didn’t comment and moved forward. The children followed behind Nug as the other source of light. The glow of the magma got brighter as they neared the magma fall. 

“So friend, what’s your name?” Red asked as he invaded Hawke’s space again. 

“Hawke.”

“Like his name is Ram and her name is Cat?” 

Hawke understood his question, “No, my name really is Hawke. I’ve had it all my life.”

Red jumped on to a pile of rocks, and shouted, “There!”

The group rounded the pile of stones to find a old ruin built into the walls of the cave. It had round columns, and a pointed roof. The door entrance was three stories tall and just as wide. Some stairs marked where natural formations ended. On each side of the door sat two statues; One was broken beyond recognition, but the other was the distinct image of a dragon. The ruins had a strange Tevinter feel to them, and Hawke stared at them. They climbed up the steps feeling small in the vast openness of the entrance. Hawke noticed giant claw marks cut into the stone, and knelt down to examine them. 

“These ruins look strange...” Ram remarked staring at the structure. “None of these carvings are dwarven.”

Hawke walked into the ruins, the large entrance, suddenly opened into a even larger hall. A ray of light from a small opening high above them lit the hall. A raised platform was placed in the middle of the room. Some stairs to the right led to another floor. The walls were lined with mosaic’s of dragons and men worshiping dragons. 

“Who worships dragons?” Cat asked staring at the wall. 

“Cults...” Hawke said looking around.

“Ah! Here they are, Hawke. Clean white bones and all.” Red waved a arm bone at Hawke. A pile of bones lay in a corner of the hall. The other children cringed at the sight but Hawke just proceeded forward.

“Have some respect for the dead, Red.” Hawke said as Red continued to play with the arm bone. Hawke knelt down to examine the bodies. This wasn’t a natural pile of bodies, as most of the bones weren’t laying together in form. He saw teeth marks on one of the bones. 

“Why? They don’t care. And aren’t you looting there body?” Red asked, turning his gaze on Hawke. 

“There's a difference between playing with bones and collecting items. Now put it down.” Hawke stated. At Hawke’s words, Red shrugged his shoulders and tossed the bone at the feet of the other children. They scattered to avoid the bone, and Hawke rolled his eyes.

“Red, see if you can find more.” Hawke said directing Red’s energy to a task. When the red hair boy darted off, Hawke focused on the dwarfs. There was something odd about them. Their armor was covered in ash and broken in places, make them unuseable. What was useful, Hawke put in a pile. 

He turned to the children and gestured them closer, “Come here. Let’s get you fitted.”

Hawke gave a pickaxe to the single other boy, asking, “What’s your name?”

“Franz Joseph, sir.” he replied taking the held out pickaxe, able to carry it’s weight. 

Hawke looked at the other two girls who looked like sisters, and they said, “Sonia, and Edith.” He gave them both a dagger and leather cap, that was too big for them. He picked up a shield and gave it to Nug, who struggled to hold it up. 

“Hawke, there’s more dead bodies up here!” Red called from atop the steps. Hawke joined him, and was surprised to find human remains half hidden by a barricade. They had a couple of crossbows and thankfully one wasn’t broken. 

He tossed the crossbow to Cat saying, “Think you can use that?” Cat checked the trigger and safety, then nodded.

A single hallway led off into the distance, and smaller doors lined the hallway. Some were barricaded by fallen rubble, others were locked. But one door was knocked open and the body of a man lay on the door way stilled dressed in a robe and a arrow in his skull. Hawke entered the room to find a workshop. Books falling apart and yellow with age lay scattered across the floor. On a work bench lay the half broken form of a dragon egg.

“Dragon cultists. This is a place that men used to breed and worship dragons.” Hawke said reading a couple of the more legible notes. “But the question is where are all the dragons?”

“Dead?” Ram suggested, picking up a mace he could use. 

“Where are the corpses?” Red asked, putting half the egg shell on his head like a helmet. Hawke knocked it off and put on a light helmet instead. “How big do you think a dragon skull is? Do you think they could eat you in one gulp? ”

“Depends on what dragon you are talking about.” Hawke said opening a chest, and began pocketing the coin. Then he spotted a staff laying in a corner. It was made of silverite, shiny white and blue metal shaft. At the head was a dragon claw holding a blue gem stone. Hawke traced the enchantments, along the shaft, with a light finger. He picked it up, finding it light he spun it in a circle. 

Suddenly a roar froze them all to their spot. Hawke was the first one to react and headed to the door peering out. Seeing no enemies, Hawke crept along with the other children carefully heading towards the hall again. Peering out of the hallway, Hawke felt his stomach drop.

A colossal form of a High Dragon was forcing her way into the hall. She dropped herself heavily on to the platform. The dragon kept her wings half out, and Hawke could see that it was in tatters. There were deep cuts in her hide and blood dripped onto the stone filling the air with a metallic smell. She licked a couple of cuts before dropping her head to the floor. In a minute the sounds of deep breathing filled the air.   
Hawke gestured for the children to head back to the room. Hawke dragged the corpse out of the door and then shut it. 

“Ask a stupid question,” Hawke said aloud and scrubbed his face.

Red was bouncing on his feet a wide grin on his face, as he said, “Did you see the size of it’s teeth? The claws alone...” The children began chattering nervously. 

“Shut it, Red.” Ram said then turned to Hawke and demanded. “This was your fool idea. What do we do now?”

Hawke rubbed the back of his head, “Seeing as the only way out is past the dragon I see only one choice. I’ll cast a sleep spell over the beast to keep it asleep and we can sneak past.” The children stared in horror at the idea. 

“Do you think it will work?” Cat asked, staring at Hawke with hope. 

“Yes,” he said, and seeing the children needed more confidence continued. “We'll go two at a time, step lightly, and watch your feet for loose stones. The Warden snuck past a sleeping dragon before and we can too.”

Seeing their uneasy nods, Hawke carefully opened the door and headed back down the hall. He waited for all the children to catch up with him before he proceed into the open. Hawke stood at the top of the stairs, with Red beside him staring down at the dragon. Hawke took his staff and began casting. He had done a Sleeping Glyph many times before but here, Hawke made it larger and more powerful. The Glyph lit the hall with a green glow. When he was certain the spell held, Hawke gestured at the children to move. 

Ram and Franz went first, Franz clutching Rams hand. Keeping close to the wall they moved slowly across the hall. Hawke held his breath watching the dragon for any signs of waking. Once Ram and Franz reached the entrance did he breathe again. He calmed himself and focused his magic. The sisters snuck past next with as much ease as the other two. 

Cat and Nug shuffled down the stairs. Nug clutched his shield, in front of him, moving very slowly as he crept past the dragon. But he wasn’t watching his feet and tripped on a stone. Nug fell with a loud clatter, shield spinning until it hit the platform the dragon was sleeping on. Everyone froze watching the dragon. The dragon snorted and shifted it’s head. Hawke pushed more power into the Glyph. The dragon breathing continued to be deep and steady. Nug and Cat made a speedy retreat out of the hall. 

Hawke released his spell, the Glyph slowly faded away. Hawke tapped on Red’s shoulder, gesturing for him to get moving. They quickly crept down the stairs, and headed toward the entrance. When Hawke reached the entrance he realized that Red wasn’t with him. Hawke spun and saw Red by the dragons tail. 

Hawke mouth dropped open and he whispered, “What are you doing?” He didn’t notice the dragon stirring. 

“I want to touch it.” Red said and petted the tail. The dragon’s head rose up and it looked at it’s tail. But Red was already moving into the shadows. Instead it focused on Hawke who was out in the open, and roared. Both Red and Hawke ran through the entrance at top speed. 

When he saw the other children Hawke yelled, “Run! Run to the right! Stay out of it’s eye sight!” 

Hawke leapt down the stairs hitting the ground in a roll and back up running. The dragon took longer to get out of the ruin giving Hawke and Red a chance to get ahead. They hid behind a stalactite. The dragon roared, waving it’s head searching for the invaders. It stepped to the right, and Hawke realized it was going to spot the other children. 

He grabbed Red by the shoulder and looked him in the eye, “Red, run through the shadows. Do not be seen! Get to the other children and get them to move. Find the exit. Mark it with my glowing staff head that Nug has. Do you understand?” Hawke was nearly shaking the other boy, who nodded wide eyed. 

“Good. Now go!” Hawke ordered as he jumped out from his hiding spot. He charged toward the dragon, shooting spirit bolts to get its attention. The dragon turned and roared at Hawke, shifting it’s massive body to face him. Hawke saw the dragon raise its head and created his barrier in time to protect himself from the dragons fire. Hawke yelled a war cry as he felt the heat of the flames through the barrier. 

From his previous fights with dragons, Hawke knew to cast ice spells. Though not his strongest talent, he cast a Winter’s Grasp at the dragon’s feet. One clawed foot was frozen to the ground, stopping the dragons movements. Hawke took the moment to begin a larger spell, and created a ice storm over the dragon. The dragon cried out in pain, then lunged for the offender. 

But Hawke knew to keep out of it’s range, and ran behind a pillar blocking the attack. Inside the cavern the dragon couldn’t fly and its massive body was slow to move giving Hawke an advantage. Hawke continued to run, taking a couple of moments to hit the dragon with a spirit bolt. He searched for the glow of his staff head. Then he saw it waving in the dark by one of the children. Hawke felt his heart thudding in his chest.

He needed to stop the dragon a little bit longer before he could make is mad dash. Hawke stopped and spun his staff to begin casting when the dragon suddenly roared. The sound echoed and amplified off the walls momentarily stunning Hawke. In this moment the dragon head snaked around the pillar of stone towards Hawke. He didn’t see the fangs but he knew what was coming.

Suddenly the dragon roared in pain. Hawke looked up to see a dagger stuck in the dragons eye. Red was suddenly by his side trying to pull him. Hawke shook him off, casting a wall of ice at the dragon. Then he ran, following Red through the cave. The floor was slightly elevated, but Hawke was used to running up the stairs of Kirkwall. He saw Nug waving his light at them from a opening in the cavern wall. It was a opening large enough for a drake or small dragon to get through but not the High dragon. But it was too big to keep them safe from the dragons fire. Hawke waved at Nug to run through the opening. Hawke grabbed Red’s other dagger from his hand, and skidded to a halt in the entrance.

“I hate doing this but I have no choice,” he said and cut into his hand. The dragon having spotted them was charging toward them. 

“Hawke what are you doing?!” Red yelled, but he stayed beside him. Hawke ignored him and with a flick of his hands scattered his blood on the ground in a line. Hawke gripped the staff head covering it with his blood. Then chanting, he spun in a circle, summoning all the reserves of his magic as he wove a spell. The dragon was almost upon them, roaring in triumph. 

Hawke brought the staff head down striking the ground on top of his blood. A ward shimmered across the opening in the stones. The dragon ran head first into it, creating a loud boom from the impact. Hawke held up his hands like he was physically holding up the ward. The dragon struck at the ward again with it’s claw, and Hawke flinched. Sweat pored off Hawke's forehead as he forced all his strength into maintaining the ward. The dragon rammed the ward, slamming it’s body against it. The stone above them began to crack. 

The dragon slammed the ward again, and a piece of the wall broke off, causing the rest of the wall to collapse. Red pushed Hawke out from under the collapsing stones and covered him with his body. As the dust settled, Hawke opened his eyes to stare into Red’s blue and green eyes, breathing heavily in stunned silence. 

When the moment of shock past, Hawke suddenly hit Red in the shoulder, “What were you thinking?” He pushed Red off him and sat up glaring at him. 

Red rolled over and grin sheepishly at him, saying, “I wanted to touch it.”

Hawke stared at him a moment but with all the battle lust running through him, he found this the funniest thing to say. Hawke suddenly broke out into laughter and fell back on to his back. Red grin widened and he began to laugh. 

“I don’t see what’s so funny. We nearly died!” Ram shouted. Hawke tilted his head and saw the other children staring at them like the pair of them were mad. 

“Maybe we are,” Hawke thought, and said. “But we are alive! That is always worthy of laughter and cheer. We just survived a encounter with a dragon. Though I think my ass is scorched.” 

Red laughed harder at that, and he saw Nug lips twitch in a smile. Hawke took a deep breath, feeling that every muscle in his body ached. He was drained of all his magic, and as weak as a kitten. Nug came up to him and tore off a piece of his shirt, then he wordlessly bound Hawke’s bleeding hand .

“I’m going to lie here a while. Can someone scout around and tell me what’s there?” 

Red jumped up, and disappeared out of sight. Nug loomed over him, rocking as he clutched the staff head that had gone dark. Hawke smiled up at him, and patted his knee. 

“You were very brave, Nug.” Nug looked down at him surprised, and Hawke continued. “Thank you for guiding me in the dark.” Nug blinked, before giving him a small smile, and grabbed Hawke hand. 

Red was back, bending over Hawke as he reported, “It’s a mine of some sort. There’s a bunch of dead miners and little baby dragons.”

“Well, now we know where the other dragons went,” Hawke said and struggled to sit up again. Red offered his hand which Hawke took and he hauled him to his feet. “We will move carefully. Hopefully there won’t be any more surprises.” 

Hawke took a step and stumbled as his legs gave out under him. Red and Nug caught him, while Hawke gritted his teeth. Ram knelt down in front of him. 

“Get on my back, Hawke. You’ve done enough.” Ram said, looking over his shoulder.

Hawke shook his head, saying,“I can’t burden you. There maybe more danger.” 

Red suddenly pushed him, and Hawke fell on Ram’s back. When Hawke grabbed Ram shoulders to steady himself, Ram scooped up Hawke’s legs from under him. Hawke had no choice but to hold on as Ram picked him up. 

“You barely weigh anything, Hawke. I may only be a bit taller than you but I’m still far older. Not to mention stronger.” Ram said as he carried Hawke. Hawke was too tired to protest, and let Ram help him. 

Red led them through the mine, checking every corner before proceeding. Hawke recognized the area as the Bone Pit. The bodies of dragonlings and spiders didn’t look that old, so they must have just missed his siblings clearing out the area. Ram huffed as he carried Hawke up the last set of stairs and into the sunlight. The sunlight temporally blinded them all, but they still embraced it. 

Ram put Hawke down, and said, “I think I hate underground. Is that weird for a dwarf to say?”

Hawke chuckled, “I know a dwarf who says it all the time.” 

“What do we do now?” Cat asked, looking around. 

“Now? Now I think we should find out if those empty tents have any water or food.” Hawke gestured at the abandon miner tents that Red was already shuffling through. 

“Hey, don’t take all the good stuff for yourself!” Ram cried out and went to help. Hawke sat himself down by the fire pit, laying against a log. He used a small amount of magic to light the fire. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes a moment. He was so tired. When he opened them, Red was looming over him, holding a water skin.

Hawke smiled and took it, saying, “I haven’t thanked you for pulling me out from under the falling rocks and saving my life. So thank you.”

Red raised an eyebrow and wiped his mouth, “I think you have it backwards. You saved my life.” He began listing the ways on his fingers. Hawke waved for him to stop. 

“I guess that just makes us brothers in arms.” Hawke said, as Nug joined them. “Right?” Nug just nodded in agreement. All the children sat down around the fire pit, enjoying a moment of rest and safety.

“Hey, there are a bunch of kids down there.” The children looked up to see a group of miners on the road. 

“There’s our rescue.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter kid of came out of nowhere. I had a another idea for this chapter but when I began writing it became this adventure. Hope you like it.  
> Have a Good Day!


	18. The Fall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Templar's are coming. What is Hawke going to do?

With a package in hand Hawke strode quickly through the thick crowd of the Bazaar, dodging around people and stalls. It was Market Days, and the stalls of Lowtown had doubled in number. People from along the coast had travel to Kirkwall to sell their wares. During this week the city allowed anyone to sell when normally you needed a permit to sell within the city limits. It was also the best day to buy items as sales and bargains were happening.

But Hawke was looking to sell, he had a stock full of weapons and junk he had been collecting. He couldn’t sell it himself because many people thought anything a street rat had was stolen. And he couldn’t tell people that he had taken them from thieves, thugs, and assassins. So he had just been storing them away in the Pit. But today he had a chance to get rid of them and get some money. He settled the package in his arms more comfortably and increased his pace. Only to find himself blocked by a crowded stairway.

Hawke looked at the blocked stairway with a internal sigh. He was already late to his meeting with Tomwise. The elf had agreed to sell what he had and give him a share of the profit. But Hawke had gotten held up by a sick child that morning and now the Bazaar was in full swing. So he decided to take the side alley. He should have known there were going to be thieves waiting in that alley. Hawke groaned aloud as two men stepped out to block his way. 

“Look at this little brat. Doing some deliveries for your Da?” one of the men mocked in a baby voice that annoyed Hawke. 

The other man drew out his dagger and lazily waved it at Hawke as he ordered, “Drop your goods if you don’t want to get hurt.”

“I don’t have time for this,” Hawke muttered and dropped his package at his feet. Before the two thieves could react Hawke cast a sleep rune under them. The thieves fell face first into the dirt. Hawke grumbled and went over to go through their pockets. Evidently the thieves had been profitable that morning as Hawke found a heavy coin purse and a couple of jewels. 

Hands clapping startled Hawke and he quickly turned, hand raised to begin casting. The shadow of a elf appeared from around the corner.

“Good, very good,” he said jovially as he stepped into the alley. The elf was in his early twenties, dressed in fine but functional clothes. He had loose sleeves that could hide daggers or stolen goods. He was another thief, but wether or not he was with these two, Hawke was uncertain. Not wanting to take his chances he began casting, hand glowing faintly.

“Hold up, little man. I an't going to hurt you.” he said holding up his hands. 

Hawke raised an eyebrow, and said, “I know that. The question is what is it that you want?”

Hawke didn’t lower his glowing hand but he held the spell back. 

The elf chuckled and replied, “I merely wanted to applauded your astonishing skills. In mere seconds you have two full grown armed men on the ground at your feet. Quite the feat for such a little man.”

Hawke was irritated by the pet name and had already been delayed enough, so he merely said, “You have, now go.” 

“I haven’t even introduced myself. My name is Jokumsen. And I’d like to make you an offer,” the thief’s smile was pleasant and open, but Hawke knew con men. 

Before he could get any further in his speech Hawke said, “No.” 

And released his magic. Jokumsen eyes widen slightly at the glow of magic before closing and slipping to the ground. Deciding that he had spent enough time dealing with this, Hawke collected his goods and left Jokumsen untouched. He rushed toward the Alienage where he knew Tomwise had set up.

Tomwise frown at him when he appeared and asked, “Where have you been? My table looks empty without the goods you promised me.”

“I apologize but Kitten was sick and I had to stop by Bear’s home to heal her before I could come,” Hawke replied and open the bundle of goods. He and Tomwise began to lay the different items on the table.

“Why is there more than what you said you would bring?” Tomwise asked holding up a dagger. 

“I encountered some thieves on the way here so I took what they had stolen today,” Hawke replied. “Sorry I was in a rush so I just mixed them together.” He held out his hand for the dagger, but Tomwise placed a gold coin in his hand.

“Here I’ll take the dagger off your hands and you can take the gold coin off mine.” Tomwise said. “I don’t like to have gold in my purse at the beginning of market day. It attracts unwanted attention.” Hawke nodded and pocketed his coin. He knew he was going to have to stop in the Pit to hide the coin he had collected himself. 

“I’ll be back at mid afternoon to see how it’s going,” Hawke said. “Good luck, Tomwise. May the riches flow in your direction.” Tomwise waved him off as Hawke disappeared into the crowd. 

\-----

Hawke walked into the Pit and a fight. The screaming and shouting echoed down the corridor. Hawke scowled at the scene. Cat and Nug were scraping and rolling in the dirt. Then Hawke noticed that all the calculations he had done that night had been trampled. He hadn’t had time to even write them on the wall. He felt his temper rising but he beat it down knowing that it wouldn’t help the situation. Hawke cast a paralysis spell over the two fighting children, freezing them in a entangled grip. 

“I don’t like to inflict magic on children, but today I believe it’s warranted.” Hawke said conversationally. “As both of you know I do not tolerate fighting in the Pit. And yet here you both are.’

He snapped his fingers dramatically and the two children fell to the floor. Cat was up first pushing Nug away hard enough that he fell down again. She began to shout at Hawke which caused Nug to shout over her. 

Hawke held up his hand and said in a firm tone, “Silence. I will not be shouted at.” He gestured at Cat when she tried to speak and she closed her mouth with a snap. He allowed Nug time to get up and stand beside Cat who glared at him.

“Now what was this about, Nug?” 

“Nug wants to join the Chantry, Hawke,” Cat interrupted, causing the cut on her lip to bleed. “I was trying to stop him.”

“You were going to tie me up like a disobedient dog!” Nug screamed.

“You wouldn’t see reason! I had to stop you.” Cat turned on him and raised a clenched fist. Nug flinched but Cat hadn't even gotten close to him. “Scaredy cat!”

“Fat witch!”

Hawke rubbed his face and allowed them to shout insults at each other as he thought. Neither of them are wrong but they aren’t right either.

“Hawke!” Cat shouted at him.

“Cat you can’t just imprison a person for disagreeing with you, even if it will keep them safe. It doesn’t work and it destroys their trust in you.” Hawke replied. “Have you tried explaining everything to him?”

“He won’t listen to me,” Cat whined.

“I’m going to join the Chantry, and you can’t stop me,” Nug crossed his arms and tilted his head away from them. Cat gestured at Hawke as if saying ‘see’. 

Hawke turned his attention to Nug, and asked, “Why do you want to join the Chantry?”

“I want to find a safe and secure home, Hawke. I’m tired of shuffling through tunnels fill with criminals, mad men and the diseased. I want to lay my head down on a real bed for once. A place I can call my own.” Nug looked into Hawke’s eye, talking to him honestly. Hawke nodded understanding that desire. 

“What makes you think that they’ll let you join?” Cat snapped, “Your nothing but a street rat to them. 

Nug’s eyes flashed, “I’m old enough to go into training for the brotherhood, and the chantry cares for orphans. It’s a place of faith and healing.”

“You’ll get hurt there and come crying back like you always do!” Cat stated. 

Nug looked like he had been slapped, a mix of shock and hurt. Then his face twisted in anger as he said, “I don’t want to live in a pit! It’s filthy, cold, and there too many people. I want a bed and warm food! I don’t want your help, Cat! Or yours Hawke!”

Nug turned to leave but Cat caught his arm. He slapped it away, screaming, “Just leave me alone.” He ran out of the Pit. Cat watched him go, hand outstretched in the open air. 

She snapped out of her shock and yelled at Hawke, “Why didn’t you stop him, Hawke? He’s going to get himself hurt.”

Hawke sad eyes met Cat’s own and he felt guilt built up in the pit of his stomach, as he said, “Yes, I could have stopped him. But what then?”

“He can’t join the Chantry it’s training will change him forever and he won’t be Nug anymore. It’s a place of wandering hands and men in the night. There's a woman...” Cat stopped unable to continue and turned away ashamed.

She nearly jumped out of her skin when Hawke touched her shoulder, saying, “You did everything you could.”

“Did I?”

“Yes, you can’t save someone who doesn't want to be saved.” Hawke said rubbing his hand through Cat’s hair, and Cat leaned against him allowing Hawke to support her. “Nug has had his life torn from him too long and he wants it back. Not to mention he doesn’t want to be underground. He see's the Chantry as the only way. You aren’t his parent. You need to let him deal with his choices in life. You did warn him.”

Cat nodded sadly, hugging herself and said, “Your right. Damn this day is full of shit.”

“Language, Cat.” Hawke scolded and said, “Don’t you still have work you wanted to do?”

“Yes, good thing you’re my boss or I’d have no job by now.” 

“Go on. Take Ram with you, he needs to see the sun for a while. I saw a number of dwarfs in Low Town today. You two will be able to get their service better than I can. And you can keep a eye out for Nug.” Hawke said gently. 

\-----

Hawke tossed the coin purse in his chest and closed the lid. The last day of Market Days had ended well for both Tomwise and him, as they reaped a larger reward for their goods than they had estimated. Hawke had to admit Tomwise was a sly haggler, even better than the dwarves. He cast his spell and the dirt rose to cover the sinking chest. Hawke wondered why he never thought of this spell before. Then again he did have a secure mansion to store it in. 

Hawke yawn and glanced over the Pit. The Pit was quieter since Cub and Kitten have left but the number of children hadn’t decreased. He wasn’t sure that was good or not. Seven kids of mixed races lounged around the green fire pit that was cooking a roast on a spit. Hawke joined them and Ram cut a piece of the roast off with a knife and handed it to Hawke. Hawke ate the meat off the knife as most of the plates were being used. Then he noticed Cat huddled in a corner away from the group. 

“She's getting worse,” Hawke commented to Ram gesturing at Cat. 

Ram nodded, “Cat's taking Nug leaving hard. She became rather close to Nug after our time underground. I think she was trying to make up for leaving him behind. You know, helping him with his nightmares and such. She thought she had been helping him. So she was hurt when he left.”

“Does she think she’ll never see him again? He’s still in the city.” 

“You know how she feels about the Chantry. She won’t step within ten feet of the Chantry walls.” Ram said tearing into the meat with his teeth. 

“Hmm,” Hawke said as he leaned against the wall deep in thought. Then the peace of the evening was interrupted by screaming from down the tunnel. Hawke sat up trying to hear what was being said. 

“...Templars! Templars are coming!” Nug appeared in the entrance screaming. Nug’s words sent a chill down Hawke spine and he was up in a flash. The other children froze, stunned by Nug's sudden appearance.

“Move!” Hawke bellowed on the top of his lungs, sending children into a frenzy. Hawke directed with his hands as he gave orders. “Take only what is necessary, leave everything else. Evacuate through the side passages. Take some fire if needed. Do not go alone!” 

Hawke grabbed his staff that laid against the wall of his work area. He couldn’t leave his work to be found by Templars who might show it to the Circle mages. With clenched teeth, Hawke cast a fireball at his work table, setting it a blaze. The children cried out at the blast and moved faster. Hawke directed more fireballs at the walls, covering his markings up with ash.  
Someone grabbed his arms, and Hawke paused to find Nug. Nug gripped his arm hard and said, “They’re coming for you, Hawke.”

“I know.” Hawke said in a cold tone. His face emotionless, mouth set in a grim frown, and eyes seemed to be color of frozen glaziers. 

“We have to move, Hawke.” Ram said, carrying his hammer on his shoulder. Cat was at his side, carrying her crossbow. The other children had already disappeared, leaving the Pit in a mess. They could hear the clanking of armor from the tunnel. 

“How did you know the Templars were coming here,” Cat directed her question at Nug. Nug shuffled in easily under her gaze and said, “I heard them planning to raid the Pit and manage to get ahead of them.”

“How did they even know about the Pit?” Cat snapped pinning Nug with a burning gaze. 

He didn’t have time to answer as the first of the Templars appeared in the entrance. He shouted that he found them. Hawke cursed, as his workplace had no exits. He ran along the Pit toward the closest exit. The Templar moved to intercept them, weapon sheathed but shield raised. 

Hawke cast a barrier to block his advance, but it dissipated upon contact. Hawke snarled, as the Templar blocked their path to the side tunnels. The children slowed to a stop, watching the Templar wearily. Ram, Cat, and Nug placed their bodies in front of Hawke protecting him. Templars began filling the cavern. Hawke could feel their cleansing presence on the edge of his awareness of magic. 

“Come now, kiddies. Just come with us, nice and quiet like, and everything will be alright.” the first Templar said taking a step toward them. 

“Don’t touch us!” Cat yelled and raised her crossbow targeting him. The Templar flinched and hid behind his shield. The rest of the Templars circled around them forming a half circle. They were trapped against the gaping hole of the Pit. 

“Ser Mettin step back. You know prodical.” Hawke flinched at that voice. Cullen stepped forward hands empty. Hawke couldn’t risk injuring Cullen in any attack he could think of. Hawke was truly trapped, and he had no idea how to get out of this situation. 

“It’s alright, children. We aren’t going to hurt you.” Cullen said gently. 

“You say that but you don’t mean that.” Cat snapped at Cullen and turned her crossbow at him. Hawke was afraid that she would shoot, and used his staff to point the crossbow away. 

As Cat glanced back at him startled, he said, “We do not shoot unarmed men.” 

“He isn’t unarmed! He has a sword on his belt!” Cat said angrily. At her words, Cullen unstrapped his belt and tossed the sword away. 

“There now, we can talk peacefully,” Cullen said meeting Cat’s eyes. “We aren’t here to hurt you. We want to bring you some where you can be safe.”

“The Chantry?” Cat spat on the ground. “I know how safe that is. This place is the safest place in Kirkwall for people like us. Hawke protects us, gives us food, a warm fire to sleep by, and he heals our wounds without thought of reward.”

“That is commendable. Who is this Hawke?” Cullen asked, and realized this was a mistake as Cat gaze burned.

“You can’t have him! He makes this city better and you want to take him way.” Cat was nearly snarling. 

“Come on, Captain. It’s just a bunch of kids, we can take them.” One of the Templar’s said confidently. This made Cat raise her crossbow again, and Ram ready his hammer. Nug stood directly in front of Hawke, protecting him with his body alone. 

“Sergeant, we do not beat up children.” Cullen said angrily. “And none of them have used magic yet.” 

“That one did. The little one with the staff.” Ser Mettin said pointing to Hawke. Hawke felt all the eyes of the Templars fall on him. Nug tried to hide him more, but it was pointless with the large staff sticking out from behind him. 

“Boy, I recognize the robe of an novice in training. Why are you protecting a mage? Surely you know that mages must be watched and monitored within the Circle for the safety of the people.”

“The Circle is for bad mages. Hawke is not a bad mage, he helps people.” Nug said.

“Any mage can turn into an abomination, good or bad.” Cullen's expression darkened. Hawke knew he was speaking from his experiences at the Ferelden’s Circle. 

“Hawke is not a demon!” Cat shouted. 

“Wait, I know who you are.” One of the Templars suddenly spoke. “Yah, you’re the lad who told the Sister about this place.”

“What!” Cat whirled on Nug. Nug avoided her gaze, only to meet Hawke’s own.

“I...I ...” Nug tried to say, but Hawke saw the guilt in his eyes. Hawke felt his blood turn cold, he shut his eyes, shoulders slumping. He stepped away from Nug, and turned his gaze to watch the Templar’s, not looking at Nug. It was wordless, but Hawke had clearly placed a line between Nug and himself.

“You bastard!” Cat screamed, and grabbed Nug’s arm. “After everything Hawke did for you! He gave you everything, saved you from the darkness and the dragon! And you betrayed his trust!”

Nug stared at her with wide eyes, trying to speak but Cat didn’t let him. “Get away from him! Go to your new friends!” Cat pulled him away from Hawke and pushed him towards the Templar’s. Nug fell to the ground hard. Nug got up and turned to Hawke. Nug’s expression was shattered and hurt, with tears in his eyes. But before he could do anything a Templar reached forward and pulled him behind them. The silence in the cavern was heavy.

Cat's and Ram's gaze burned with determination. But before Hawke could notice what they were planning. Cat suddenly fired her crossbow at the Templar at the edge of the half circle forcing the Templar to raise his shield. Ram yelled a war cry and charged the Templar, striking at his legs. This move would have worked, if the Templar hadn’t been in full armor and Ram was stronger. The Templar pinned Ram with his shield. 

Cat ran forward throwing herself at the Templar, yelling, “Go, Hawke!” 

The Templar reacted to Cat’s charge on instinct, drawing his sword to strike Cat. Hawke cast a barrier around Cat, protecting her. It lasted only a couple of seconds as another Templar reacted at the sight of magic by cleansing the area. But it saved Cat from being cut in two, as the Templar was able to recover and halt his blade. Another Templar rushed forward and grabbed Cat, pinning her arms behind her back. 

Hawke was now alone as the Templars came closer. Hawke backed up until he felt the air of the Pit behind him. Hawke narrowed his eyes at the Templar’s holding Cat and Ram. 

“Put down your staff, apostate,” the Templar threaten, holding Cat tighter until she squeaked in pain. 

“Fine, just don’t hurt them,” Hawke said, tossing his staff to the ground, dropping his hand to his side so they were hidden by his cloak. 

“Steady, we won’t hurt them.” Cullen gestured for the Templars not to move, and then turn his gaze to Hawke asking,“Little one, will you come with us? The Circle can teach you to properly use your magic.”

Hawke shook his head slowly, and met Cullen's eyes squarely, “I will not go to that death trap you call a Circle.”

Cullen look taken aback by Hawke’s words, and he said, “Being in the Circle won’t kill you. They just want to help you control your abilities.”

“Maybe most Circles. But have you really looked at the Gallows.” Hawke shook his head remembering the list of atrocities happening at the Circle he had found out over the years. “I’m not willing to go through that, thank you.” Hawke felt the edge of the Pit with his heel. The feeling of empty air behind him, made his stomach turn. 

Cullen eyes widened when he realized what Hawke was going to do. Cullen shook his head, and held out his hand, “No, it’s safe. I will personally protect you.” 

Hawke smile was soft, as he said, “And you mean that don’t you, Cullen. You’ve always been a good man. Even though you can be a jerk of a Templar. But there are others who deserve your protection more that I do.” 

“Like the Inquisitor, she needs your protection and your love,” he thought. Hawke raised his arms from his sides. 

“Hawke, don’t do it!” Cat yelled, struggling against the Templar’s hold on her. 

“Hawke!” Ram voice was slightly muffled. 

“Please Hawke... no, nonono,” Nug voice cracked as he wailed, and he tried to push his way past the Templars. Cullen eyes were desperate, and he stepped toward Hawke. 

“It will be alright.” Hawke said and he let himself fall. 

He didn’t close his eyes, but watched Cullen rush to the edge, arm reaching out to grab Hawke as he fell. Hawke began chanting, waving his hands as he cast his magic. He knew the Pit was deep but he hoped the could complete the spell before he hit the ground. The air wipped his cloak around him, slapping his skin. Hawke turned to face the fall, directing the flow of magic around him, and began slowing his descent. 

Hawke was surrounded by darkness. Unable to see anything he slammed into a wall that scraped his arm raw. He yelped as his balance was thrown off. It was a second later when he hit the water on his back. Though he had slowed his fall, he still hit the water hard enough to drive the air from his lungs. He panicked as he plunged below the surface of the water. Hawke grabbed with his hands searching for the surface. But in the darkness he had no idea which way up was. 

When he felt like his lungs were burning he came to the surface and took a gasping breath. After a couple of breaths, Hawke was able to calm himself. He laid on his back and floated there for a moment. He took inventory of himself. 

“Arm; scraped and a bit bloody. Back; one big bruise. Magic; low and in need of rest. At least everything is still attached and I’m still free. For an encounter with a Templar raiding party that could have been worse,” Hawke thought and remembered the children’s cries. “But not much worse.”

When he had rested enough, Hawke raised his hand and made it glow. He looked around the bottom of the pit. It was a bit wider down here than it was above. A couple of broken pieces of lumber that was once a lift stuck out of the water. Hawke was glad he hadn’t hit those. The water was cold and tasted like sea water so he knew there had to be a way for the water to get in. It almost looked like there was no way out when Hawke spotted a opening in the wall just above water level. Hawke swam over to it and discovered it was the top of a tunnel. The water filled most of the tunnel but there was just enough room to allow Hawke’s head to swim above water level. Seeing no other choice, Hawke began to doggy paddle down the tunnel. 

He went slow, using his glowing hand to spot any trouble. Broken pillars and stones lined the tunnel, and carefully avoided them. At one point he saw the skeleton of a man below, and Hawke took it as a warning to be even more careful. Suddenly his cloak got caught on a broken piece of wood. No matter how he pulled, Hawke could not get it free. Hawke unhappily untied his cloak with cold fingers. He would miss Anders Warden's cloak but he had no choice but to push on.

The water began moving under him in a slow current. Hawke made sure to let the current pull him but not control were he went. Hawke shivered, he wanted out of the water he was so cold. Suddenly the tunnel dipped and became fully sumerged underwater. Hawke knew the water had to be going somewhere. 

So he tried a spell. Hawke created a barrier around him, blocking out the water and trapping just enough air for him to breathe. Like a bubble, the water current pulled his barrier and him through the water. The current forced the barrier into the wall a couple of times and Hawke clenched his teeth to maintain his spell. Suddenly the current moved faster forced the barrier into a crack in the wall. Hawke had made the Barrier too big to fit through it. He took a deep breath and released the spell. 

Water rushed around him, pushing him through the crack into open water. With his hand still glowing he could see the surface. Hawke kicked his feet and swam upward. He broke the surface with a gasp. It was still night but compared to the darkness of the pit the moon shone bright. Hawke was surprised to find himself in the bay of Kirkwall. Hawke began swimming toward the docks. 

Hawke grabbed the edge of the docks and hauled himself out of the water. He collapsed against the wood, breathing very slow and shallow. His entire body shivered and Hawke curled around himself, then gasped in pain when he grabbed his wounded arm. 

His thoughts felt clouded, but he knew there wasn’t anywhere he was safe now. But he desperately wanted to feel safe.

“Warm. I want to be warm more.” Hawke thought, “Curled up in front of the fire with Fenris. Fenris...” That thought stuck in Hawke's mind as he hauled his weaken body up. The docks were empty that night, and Hawke snuck past the Qunari guards. He moved with single minded determination towards High Town. Nobody saw the little figure leaving a faint blood trail through Kirkwall. 

Hawke pounded heavily on Fenris's door, leaning against the doorframe for support. It took a couple of minutes and even more door pounding with Hawke’s foot before Fenris open the door.

“This better be bloody important,” Fenris snarled, and was caught off guard by Hawke wrapping himself around his waist. Hawke buried himself in Fenris armor, breathing his scent of iron, lyrium and vanilla. This was safe. 

“Hawke your soaking wet. What happened?” Fenris asked, very concerned. 

“Hmm...your warm...” Hawke mumbled, and had another full body shiver. 

“Hawke, your ice cold! Come to the fire and warm up.” Fenris reached down and untangled Hawke from his waist. Hawke flopped into his arms and Fenris picked him up. Then he noticed Hawke's raw bleeding arm. 

“Shit, your bleeding as well,” Fenris cried out and rushed him into the mansion. He placed Hawke in a chair before the fire place, feeling Hawke continued to shiver violently. He rushed to his bed and pulled off all his blankets. Fenris pulled off Hawke’s wet clothes and he wrapped him up like a cocoon. Then he carefully bandaged Hawke’s arm. But Hawke was still shivering, and looked at Fenris with half lidded eyes. 

“Hawke, what happened?” Hawke mumbled the words ‘Templar’ and ‘raid’. Hawke shivered again and pulled the blankets tighter. 

“No, Hawke you keep talking. Tell me what to do to help you.” Fenris was near panicking now, as he spoke kneeling in front of Hawke. Hawke looked up into his eyes and gave him a smile that nearly terrified him. 

“Anders...Varric knows.” Hawke words were broken. Then his eyes closed, and he looked like he stopped breathing. Fenris heart stopped, and he quickly checked for a pulse. It was slow but it was there. Fenris rushed out of the mansion in a dead run towards the Hanged Man and prayed that Varric would understand Hawke's criptic words. 

\-----

Hawke awoke finding himself in a sea of soft blankets and a comfortable mattress. He sighed, and let himself just lay there in the softness that seemed to be absent from his life for so long. But he wondered where he was, and opened his eyes. Recognizing the roof, he realized he was in Fenris's bed. Hawke wasn’t sure why he was there but he was too weak to care. His entire body ached and his left arm throbbed. He tried to sit up to look at it. 

“No, you lie back down Hawke.” Anders appeared and he gently pushed on Hawke's chest to get him to lay back. 

“Anders? Why are you here? Fenris won’t like you here.” Hawke said softly. 

“Fenris brought me here. You were sick, very sick, Hawke.” Anders said grim faced. “You had Cold Blood. It’s what happens when your body becomes too cold, and it puts a strain on your heart. Hawke you could have died.” 

“But I didn’t...” Hawke said and yawned. 

“Why in the Maker’s name did you come to me?” Fenris said suddenly looming over him. “You could have gone to Varric or Anders first and save me the heart attack.”

“Because your safe,” Hawke said, smiling at him, and reached out his hand for him. Uncertain Fenris took Hawke’s hand in his own. Hawke intertwined their fingers and curled himself around Fenris's hand. 

He breathed softly, “Your safe.” And Hawke fell back to sleep. 

\-----

“What do you mean he jumped?”

“That’s just what I heard, Broody. We won’t know the full story till Hawke tells us.”

“What I want to know is how they found him.”

The voices of Fenris, Varric and Anders echoed through the open door of Fenris's room. Hawke stirred in his blankets, unwilling to get up, but nature was calling. Hawke slowly crawled out of the bed, dragging the blankets with him coughing as he did so. Still sleepy, Hawke shuffled out of the door, and down the hall to the bathroom. He nearly fell back to sleep at the wash bin when he heard his name being called.

Hawke open the door and walked out saying, “Yes, I’m here.” 

Anders ran up to him and crushed him in a hug, “Gees, Hawke will you stop giving me grey hairs. Why are you out of bed?”

Hawke coughed, and simply said, “I needed to pee.” 

Anders picked him up and said, “Lets get you back to bed.”

Hawke struggled against his hold, saying unhappily, “Put me down, Anders. I’m not crippled I can walk.” Anders fought with him a moment before having to put him down. Hawke frowned at Anders scowl as he walked past him.

“Your going to look like Fenris if you keep scowling like that,” Hawke said walking into Fenris’s room. Varric and Fenris were there both scowling at him. 

“See,” Hawke gestured at Fenris, and climbed into the bed, pulling the blankets after him. 

“Hawke, we need to talk. We need to know what happened.” Varric said, with a serious tone. 

Hawke sighed and leaned back against the head board, “Of course. But can I get some food while I do so.” Awake now, Hawke was suddenly hungry, and his stomach agreed with that request. Anders left and then returned with a bowl of porridge. Hawke stomach growled at the smell and Hawke took a mouth full of the warm food happily.

After a couple of bites Hawke spoke, “As you probably already know the Templar’s raided the Pit. And yes I jumped into the Pit. But...!” Hawke gestured to stop Anders and Fenris from shouting at him.

“It was fine. I floated myself to the bottom with magic. I wanted the Templar’s to think I had killed myself so they wouldn’t come searching for me. The bottom of the Pit is connected to the sea, so I just swam out. Then I came here because it’s the safest place in Kirkwall for me at the moment. Nobody really knows this place is abandoned yet, and the Templars won’t come stomping through the Estates looking for me.” Hawke explained between mouth fulls.

“You left out the part that you tore your arm up falling. Got Cold Blood from swimming in the sea too long. Then dragged your soaked body up to High Town and nearly died.” Anders voice was getting louder with every word until he was shouting. 

“Calm down, Anders. I’m alive. You healed me.” Hawke said gesturing for him to sit again. Hawke felt like his throat was dry and took a drink of water. 

“Calm down? Calm down! I’m way past the point of being able to calm down,” Anders voice was becoming enraged, and his eyes began to glow. “When I find the Templar’s who did this I am going to...” Hawke’s pillow came flying at Anders and hit him in the face surprising him. 

“You will do nothing!” Hawke's voice wasn’t loud but it was commanding and deadly. Even Justice felt the command and disappeared. Anders stared at Hawke, who was sitting straighter, no longer looking like a child. 

“I will not have the mages and the Templar’s go to war over this,” Hawke said firmly, staring Anders down until he looked away. Then Hawke covered his mouth to cough. 

“It maybe too late for that, Hawke,” Varric said drawing Hawke’s attention to him. “The city is in a uproar over this.”

“What? Why? How do they know?” Hawke asked surprised.

“First the how; You know that girl of yours Cat? Well she is telling every Chantry sister and passer by your story. She isn’t going to let the Templar’s hide it away. She’s a stubborn alley Cat isn’t she?” Varric said but didn’t smile. The joke was almost a reflex. 

Hawke groan and covered his face, “I’m going to have to find a messenger to get her to stop.”

“Why? The Templars should be accountable for their actions,” stated Anders. “The mages could use this to revolt.”

“And start a war! Do you have any idea what a war between the Templars and mages will do to Thedas?” Hawke snapped at Anders, bearing down on him with his gaze. “You don’t do you.”

“A ton of mages running around on loose can never be a good thing,” Fenris commented. 

“What do you know?” Anders turned his anger on Fenris.

“Whoa, whoa. Don’t just start fighting about this. It isn’t going to help.” Varric held up his hands in a gesture of peace. 

Hawke sighed dramatically, placing his head in his hands, “Right, but what are we going to do? We can’t let this get out of hand.”

“This story isn’t going to disappear anytime soon, Hawke. I recognize the signs, this is going to get blown out of proportion before it dies down.” 

“I’m not going to let a war get started over me. I worked too hard to let my name become covered in blood.” Hawke’s yelling, caused him to suddenly begin a coughing hard. Anders was suddenly up, and rummaging through his belt. He held out a potion for Hawke. Once he stopped coughing, Hawke took the potion and drank it. 

“You are going to do nothing but rest for the next week.” Anders said firmly.

“But...!”

“I will tie you to that bed if I have to. With chains.” Anders threatened, and Hawke deflated. Being a healer, he knew he needed the rest.

“How about you start by telling the people you know that you aren’t dead,” Varric suggested. “I think they need to know first. Write some messages. You can do that from your bed.”

Hawke nodded, “If you could bring me a writing table and some parchment I’ll get started.” Varric left to get what Hawke needed. Hawke held up his bowl for Anders asking for some more porridge. Anders eyed him and left the room. 

Alone with Fenris, Hawke smiled at him, “Thank you for letting me have your bed.”

Fenris shrugged, then handed him the pillow, saying “It’s fine. I sleep more often in a chair so you can keep it.” Hawke smiled widened and settled back into the blankets.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cold Blood = hypothermia, if you are wondering. And it is not to be taken lightly. I was going to post this on Valentines Day. But life gets in the way. But here it is. Enjoy!  
> And Have a Good Day!


	19. The Effect of a Fall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The result of Hawke jumping in the the Pit. Hawke comes to realize how much he is loved and cared for.

Hawke was sleeping soundly when he was suddenly awaken by someone jumping on him. He opened his eyes to find Cat on top of him staring at him with teary eyes. She wore only a night dress and her hair was a mess of curls. 

Hawke smiled at her, and asked, “Cat, how are you doing? Are you alright?”

He got a unexpected answer to his question as Cat suddenly hit him. She cried out, “You fool! That’s what I’m suppose to ask you! Why did you jump?”

Hawke patted her arm trying to calm her, as he said, “I had to get them to think I was dead.”

“I thought you were dead!” Cat sobbed, tears streaming down her face. “I thought we had failed you. After all you have done for us, we couldn’t even protect you.” 

Hawke stared up at her in stunned silence for a moment. Then he reached up and pulled her down to his chest. He let her cry on him for a long couple of minutes stroking her hair. He whispered to her, “It will be alright.”

“Please don’t say those words. I don’t believe them anymore.” she hiccuped and grabbed a fist full of his shirt. Hawke didn’t know how to reply, so he laid there in silence. 

Cat got up off Hawke, and sat on his bed side, looking away from him. Hawke sat up watching Cat, waiting until she spoke. Then she asked, “What happens now?”

“Well, first you need to stop spreading those stories about me.” 

“What? Why? That Templar deserves every dirty look he gets.” Cat snapped.

“Cullen, did nothing wrong. He was just doing his job.” Hawke leaned his head on his knees as he spoke. “Truthfully, I’m sort of thankful that it was him leading the raid. If it had been any other Templar I don’t think I would have gotten away.”

“He’s still a right bastard.”

“Language,” Hawke scowled. “Don’t judge people based on your first impression. Cullen is a good man with a hard life. He has every right to think the way he does. He was once the victim of a blood mage who either killed his friends or turned them into abominations.”

“Hawke, how can you defend him? He's a Templar and you’re a mage.” Cat asked studying him. 

Hawke shrugged, “I don’t hate the Templars. But then again I never lived in the Circles.”

“Well, I hate him. He took my home and you from me.” Cat stated, frowning. 

“Don’t let that hate poison you.” Hawke said as he joined her at the edge of the bed so he could look her in the eye. “Hatred can poison your view and change you in ways that you never thought possible. Its hard to forgive, but without it you only have a bitter life. And you, Caitlin Briggs, deserve to have a good life.”

“So I should just forgive and forget. Move on with my life? You sound like one of those preachy sisters, Hawke.”

“Well, this lesson was taught to me by a sister.” Hawke replied. “I’m not asking you to forget what you witnessed. But let it fuel your resolve and not your hatred. Don't let revenge define your life.”

Cat looked into his eyes, before turning away and said, “I can’t do that yet, Hawke. But I can say I will try.”

“Thats all I can ask for.” Hawke said, and stood up. “Well with that out of the way, maybe the stories will die away.”

“Hawke what are you going to do?” Cat asked watching him as he took out a potion and drank it.

“Hmm, I’ve been instructed by Anders that I am to heal first. After that...” Hawke shrugged. “I’ll continue to help people. Kirkwall is full of dangers, and people are always going to need help.”

“That’s it? Just help people. No plans for the future, no ideas about a job or having a family?” 

“I’m an apostate, Cat. The only job we can have is being a mage. As for settling down. I’m nine, Cat, that’s not happening for a long time.” Hawke replied raising an eyebrow. “What brought this on?”

Cat fidgeted, and said, “When I was talking to people about you I met a woman, Cassandra. She was a Seeker of Truth. She's here to investigate your ... death. And we got talking. She convinced me to join the Seekers. She doesn’t even mind that I hate the Chantry. I still believe.”

“I thought the Seekers were part of the Chantry.”

“They are part of the Chantry, but they keep the Templars and the Sisters from abusing their power. Cassandra doesn’t even mind that I hate the Chantry.” Cat replied and pointed at Hawke. “I believe in Andraste and the Maker, because he made a person like you, Hawke.”

Hawke rubbed the back of his neck embarrassed, as he said, “The Seekers would benefit from having you in it. When do you leave?”

“Once the investigation into your death is done, I’ll be returning with her on her ship. I’ll be training in isolation for many years.” Cat replied, then she grabbed his hands. “I won’t forget what you have done for me, Hawke. I can promise you that. I’ll make sure mages have fair judgement by the Seekers.”

“All I ask is you judge people based on their actions. There are just as many bad mages as there are bad men.” Hawke replied. After a couple more words, Anders came in and ushered Cat out so Hawke could rest. 

As he tucked Hawke in, Anders asked, “Do you really believe everything you said about forgiveness?”

“Yes, I tried hating a person for many years. Nothing came from it except sleepless nights, anger and a tendency to destroy things. Eventually a sister of the Chantry taught me to forgive not only them, but myself. I found peace and felt to be a better person for it.” Hawke replied, staring at Anders. 

In his head, Hawke thought, “I forgave you for what you did.” Then he closed his eyes as Anders stared at him with a thoughtful gaze.

\-----

The next few days Fenris Mansion had a steady stream of visitors. Anders and Varric had set themselves up in the mansion. Aveline came to harass him for his actions and how much trouble he cause. Merrill visited only shortly because Fenris kept glaring at her. She promised to go tell Feynriel what had happened. Isabela appeared out of nowhere and stayed long into the night once she discovered the wine Fenris had. The Twins made a brief visit but were mostly looking for Varric. Then the children arrived.

Bear and Song came in carrying Cub and Kitten in their arms, with a trail of children following them. Hawke was overwhelmed by the crowd of children rushing him and covering him in deep hugs. Everyone was talking at once, crying and nearly shouting. Bear suddenly reached into the mass of bodies and grabbed Hawke by the collar of his vest. He lifted Hawke up, and took him into his arms, crushing him in a hug. Then he placed Hawke in front of Song as she stroked his hair, checking his body for injuries, all while a steady stream of tears fell down her face. 

Hawke ushered everyone into the main hall, and each hand was claimed by one of the toddlers. The main hall was a place for exploration, Cub and Kitten ran off screaming. The other children circled Hawke as he sat down in a couple of chairs that the companions had pulled out of the rubble to sit on. Hawke began talking about what had happened, each child having a different reaction. 

Fenris watched from a distance as Hawke, smiled, and soothed each child. He had never been around so many children at once, and was slightly uncomfortable. He wasn’t sure if he should leave and let Hawke speak with them. Suddenly he felt the tail of his armor being tugged on. He looked down to find the toddler boy and girl staring up a him.

“You look funny.” Cub said with wide eyes.

“I guess...” Fenris said hesitantly, stepping back. 

“Why don’t you wear shoes?” Kitten asked, staring at his feet.

“Hmm...”

“Kitten, Cub, come here. Don’t harass the nice elf.” Song called, and the toddlers ran towards her. 

“Fenris, don’t skulk in the shadows. This is your home. Come sit.” Hawke called, and shooed off a boy from one of the chairs. 

Fenris hesitated, thinking, “They are just a bunch of children. Nothing to be afraid of.” Hawke gestured at him again and he went over to sit in the ring of children. 

“I don’t think I introduced you to Fenris before, though you may have seen him briefly.” Hawke said as Fenris sat down. “Fenris is the owner of this mansion, and has been kind enough to allow me to stay as I heal.”

“I’m not really the owner, Hawke.” Fenris said and saw the confusion on the children faces. “I just live here. Dararius owns the rights to this mansion.”

Hawke waved Fenris's statement away, “Dararius can come and get it if he wants it. Until then it is Fenris’s Mansion not Dararius's.” 

Hawke words warmed Fenris. Then he found himself being bowed at by Song and Bear, who said, “Thank you, Fenris, for sheltering Hawke in his time of need.” 

Fenris nearly blushed, “I... it was nothing. I already owe Hawke for helping me.” Hawke seemed displeased with his answer but Bear and Song nodded understanding. 

“Hawke,” Ram called drawing his attention to him. “When are you going to return to the Pit?”

“Never.” Hawke sighed, “It is known to the Templar’s and I can’t go back.”

The children fell into silence and one of the younger girls asked, “Then what is going to happen to us?”

“Where are we going to go?”

“Dark Town isn’t safe without you,” another elf boy said. 

All of the children stared at Hawke with hope and desperation. Despite the fact that Hawke was much younger than many of the children here, they relied on him. Fenris didn’t realize how much of a burden Hawke carried. But Hawke didn’t act like it was a burden.

Hawke straighten his back, saying, “It’s too dangerous for you to stay with me. I don’t want any of you hurt in the cross fire if the Templar’s come after me again. I’ll find you each a place of residence. I'll call in every favor I have until each of you have a home or an apprenticeship. I will not leave you in Dark Town alone.”

Fenris was stunned, and touched. Clearly these children had been abandoned, and ignored by the people around them. But Hawke wasn’t going to let that happen. Even though Hawke had nothing himself, he would work to give them a home. 

“ You may stay here in the mansion, for the time being.” Fenris was surprised by is own words. “Only until, you find a home. A Magister is still hunting me.” The children chorus words of thanks and excitement. Fenris felt warmed in his heart, but he held his scowl. 

At least until, Hawke sat on the arm of his chair and leaned over saying, “Thank you. You don’t know what that means to me. You’re an amazing person, Fenris.” Hawke kissed him on his forehead, staring into his eyes fondly. Fenris thoughts stuttered to a stop, as he felt a long forgotten emotion fill him. Fenris turned his head away covering his face so they couldn’t see the resulting blush. But Hawke knew, and he smiled happily sitting back down in the chair.

They heard a crash from above them and Bear groaned, “I’ll go get them.”

Hawke glanced at the children around him, “Finch, Moth. Why don’t you two go and get some food from the cellar? Its through that door, the room on the far left is the kitchen. The rest of you, follow me.”

Hawke stood up and the children followed like ducklings. Hawke led them to the remains of the dining room with its long tables flipped over. “Lets get these tables up.” Hawke said, directing the children around him into groups to lift up the tables. Fenris was surprised to find that the young dwarf lad named Ram was so strong. 

It took a group effort to pull a bench out of the rubble and set it beside the table. A couple a chairs were also pulled in to sit at the head. The two boys returned with arms full of cheese and bread, and placed them directly on the table. Fenris was surprised to see the number of cups appearing along with a jug of water. The table was surrounded by ten children, and himself. Hawke was forced to sit at the head across from Fenris. Some children prayed but most did not as the food was passed around. None of them cared that they ate off the table.

Then Varric appeared, “Well, look at this it’s a kiddy festival. Seems the children followed you here, Hawke.” 

“Indeed,” Hawke replied with a smile. 

“Varric!” Cub and Kitten ran up to the dwarf and hugged his legs.

“Hello, mini Bears.” Varric shooed them off and pulled up a chair beside Hawke. 

As the children ate, Hawke and Varric talked in low voices. Clearly planning something. Fenris had become the center of attention of many of the children. The conversation between the children were surprising. Fenris discovered he could relate to many of the problems the children had as he had experienced them as a slave. And they could relate to him in turn.

As the day wore on. The children came and went from the mansion. Hawke instructed them to use the servant entrance and pathway to keep from the nobles spying eyes. They came back with blankets, food, and other supplies. Isabela showed up and began to play with the children. Destroying a couple of things in the mansion in the process. 

As night fell, Song pulled Hawke aside. “Hawke, there’s something we need to tell you. We’re getting married. Within the week.”

Hawke nearly choked, “So soon? Your only seventeen and Bear’s nineteen. Shouldn’t you wait till you’re a little older. You don’t need to rush things.”

“Most city girls are married by fifteen, Hawke.” Song replied. “And I love him.”

“I know you do. But I thought you were gong to save up some money so you can have it in the Chantry. Why now?”

Song gave him a long look before she said, “Because you died, Hawke. I know you didn’t. But the night the children showed up on our doorstep and Ram told us what happened. I didn’t know what to think, Hawke. I spent most of the night crying into Bears arms. Bear will never say it but he was teary as well. I don’t think you realize how much you mean to us.”

“Song, I...”

But Sing interrupted him with a shake of the head, “When I stopped crying, Bear began to talk to me. We spoke about a lot of things, but mostly about you, Hawke. Our past memories of you. And thoughts about a future that would never be.” Hawke was silent now, just listening to Song speak. He was almost afraid of what she would say. 

“When Cat told us you were alive. I was relieved, happy and more than little hopeful. The Maker had given us a second chance to do everything we ever talked about. And we aren't going to waste a second of that future. Because we realized it is all too easy to loose you.” Song stared a Hawke hard. Those words stabbed Hawke in the heart. He was uncertain of what to say, because he knew it was true. He could too easily be killed, and if he didn’t he would disappear back to his own time line. 

Song saw the guilt in his eyes and enclosed him in a hug. Then she said, “One of the things we had wanted you to do was give our marriage speech.” 

Hawke blinked in surprise, “Me? Isn’t an elder or one of your blood relatives suppose to do it?”

Song giggled, “Seeing as we are both orphans we have no blood relatives. We see you as the closest thing to family and a elder that we have. We want you to speak for us before the Maker.” 

Hawke rubbed the back of his neck, “If you are sure. I’d be honored to do it.” 

“Thank you, Hawke,” she knelt down and kissed his forehead. 

Hawke blushed and pushed her away, “So when and where are you getting married.” 

“Well, we were thinking about out on the coast, on one of the cliffs over looking the sea,” she said embarrassed. 

“Good choice,” Hawke beamed. 

“As to the when. As soon as we can get someone from the Chantry to do it. Unfortunately we have to trust them not to turn you in to the Templar’s.”

“Oh, I know a Brother. I'll go ask him.” Hawke said, waving the issue away. “What about wedding clothes? Food and drink?”

Song laughed, “Taking charge already, Hawke? You already have enough you have to do. Bear and I can handle everything else.”

“Hmm, I’ll send you some help.” Hawke said and when Song glanced at him, he continued. “Don’t worry, they’ll love to help you.”

Bear appeared in the door way, carrying Cub and Kitten sleeping forms. Song hugged him saying, “Thank you again, Hawke.” 

\-----

The next day, Bethany, Carver and Merrill appeared at Song and Bears door. Bethany and Merrill began fussing with Song over dresses. Bear and Carver shared some simple words. But Bear seem to help Carver more with his love life than Carver helped Bear with his clothes. Carver and Bethany bonded with the young couple well. They never could have friends their age living in hiding with three apostates. And Hawke was glad they found each other. 

Plans for the children were progressing nicely. Varric and Hawke set them up in different parts of the city, becoming messengers for different merchants or servants for a noble. Two went to sea on a ship Isabela recommended. One by one the children left the mansion. Fenris never complained about their presence and was sad to see them go. It became silent in the mansion again. Hawke being the only other resident.  
Hawke had disappeared for a glass, and Fenris was getting antsy. When a knock came to the door, Fenris sprung to open it. He found a man standing there in white armor, smiling pleasantly. Fenris was instantly on guard, and his scowl hardened. 

“Who are you?” Fenris asked staring the man down, noting his bow.

“Greetings, I am Sebastian Vael. How do you do today?” Sebastian said with good-natured cheer. 

“Fine. What do you want?” he asked in a hard tone. 

“I am here to speak to Hawke,” Sebastian said with another smile. 

“He's not here,” Fenris readied himself. The man didn’t even notice his defensive stance. If he needed to Fenris could cut the man in half in a moment then drag his corpse into the mansion. 

“I thought Varric said I could meet him here. Hawke told him he wanted to speak to me.” Sebastian said surprised. Fenris stilled himself with Varric’s name. 

“He's not here right now,” he clarified. 

“Oh, then may I come in and wait for him?” Sebastian was clearly just being polite, but Fenris brittled at the idea of bringing him in. But Hawke had wanted to talk to him, so Fenris stepped to the side and allowed him passage. Sebastian blinked in surprise at the destruction of the mansion. 

“I must admit I am surprised to find the state of this mansion.”

“There is a reason for it,” Fenris commented coldly. Fenris always treated strangers with contempt until he learned more about them. 

“I’m sure there is.” Sebastian said neutrally. Fenris stiffened and ignored him as he sat down in one of the chairs in the entrance room. He scowled at the man, watching his every move. Since he didn’t welcome Sebastian to sit down, he was left standing. A stiff silence fell between them. Suddenly the front door opened and Aveline carried Hawke through the door by his collar. 

“Fenris! Oh there you are.” Aveline yelled them quieted as she notice the elf. “You were supposed to keep him in the mansion.”

“I had to go personally to the Dwarf Merchant Guild. They didn’t seem to understand I meant what I said in the letter. I wasn’t even gone a glass.” Hawke said as Aveline put him down.

“You aren’t to go outside this mansion alone! Didn't we decide that it was dangerous for you?” Aveline placed her hand on her hips. 

“It was just down the stairs and to the left! It’s not even a ten minute walk. I’m not some little boy that can’t handle going to the market alone.” Hawke argued, crossing his arms. “I wasn’t seen.”

“I saw you!” 

Fenris noticed that no one was going to win this argument, and cleared his throat loudly. Hawke and Aveline turned to look at Fenris, and he gestured at Sebastian. Confusion crossed both their faces, and Fenris felt uncertain about letting the human in the mansion. 

“Sebastian? Whats going on? Why have you come here? What happened?” Hawke asked, becoming worried. 

“You sent a letter that you wished to ask a personal favor from me,” Sebastian said, pulling out the letter from his pouch. 

“Oh, right! Sit down, and I’ll be right with you,” Hawke gestured at the chair beside Fenris. Hawke turned back to Aveline, who matched his gaze. 

“Stay inside, Hawke. I have enough troubles caused by you already. Don’t create any more problems for me.” Aveline stated firmly. 

Hawke shrugged and gave in, “Fine, just until the wedding.”

Aveline rolled her eyes, and open the door, “Listen to me for once, Hawke.” 

“I always listen to you.” Hawke replied and Aveline closed the door with a shake of her head. “I just don't always follow your words.” Fenris chuckled as he heard Hawke's last words. Hawke turned around and sat on the ground in front of Fenris between his legs. 

Hawke only gave Fenris the briefest touches. He gave him personal space, but always lingered on the edge. Which Fenris was thankful for but he couldn’t help why the mage seemed so attached to him. Hawke seemed to trust and admire him. The mage hater. Fenris came out of his thoughts as Hawke began to speak. 

“So the reason I called you here. I have a question for you.”

“I shall try to answer honestly.” Sebastian replied, watching Hawk with amusement. 

“Can you marry two people?” Hawke asked and surprised Sebastian. 

“I have had the training to complete the ritual but have never done it before.” Sebastian replied. 

“Perfect!” Hawke smiled, thumping his legs. “Would you be willing to bond a young man and woman? It would have to be soon.” 

“Of course, I’d be honored to bind a couple before the Maker. But may I ask a question?”

“Of course.” Hawke opened the palm of his hand to Sebastian. 

“Why come to me? Surely it would be better to make the request to the Chantry and have them send a representative.”

“Well, the thing is that I am to give the marriage speech and speak for the couple.” Hawke smiled at that happily. “But of course I am a known mage. Any other clergy would call the Templars on me.”

Sebastian suddenly looked sharp, and asked, “You aren’t avoiding the Chantry because you are claiming you have the blood of Andraste.”

Hawke was so startled that he choked, and then said, “When have I claimed that?” 

“There are stories that Andraste herself saved you from your fall because you are one of her desendants.” Sebastian leaned forward to watch Hawke's reaction. 

Hawke laughed, “My magic save me from my fall. I swam through the freezing cold sea. I hauled my bruised and bleeding body across Kirkwall. Not the Maker, not Andraste. I did.”

“And you have never claimed to have the blood of the bride of the Maker?”

“What would I gain from doing so? I’m currently trying to hide from the Templars. Wouldn’t saying I have Andraste blood draw their attention to me.” Hawke was frowning deeply as he spoke. “I'm sure the Maker and Andraste do not care about some orphan apostate.

“The Maker watches over us all. He guides and cares for us all.” Sebastian recited. 

“Sure you can say that. But what does the Maker care for mages?” Hawke snapped, then swallowed his anger. “Gees, I’m starting to sound like Anders. Fenris please punch me if I start ranting about Templars.”

“Gladly,” Fenris said, he had watched the exchange in silence. 

Sebastian face change back to the polite mask it wore, “Despite what you say about the Maker, it seems clear to me that you aren’t the source of the rumors.”

He stood and said, “I shall report to Grand Cleric Elthina, that the rumors are merely wild tales. But do not be surprise if the Chantry goes searching for you. Those who claim divinity are disavowed.”

“Thank you for the warning. I would care more if I wasn’t already in hiding from the Chantry.” Hawke replied waving his hand not looking a the man. “I’ll send you a letter, when the date of the wedding will be set. Until then, good bye, Sebastian.”

Clearly dismissed, Sebastian walked to the door but hesitated. He glanced over his shoulder, saying, “You may not see it but the Maker cares for all his children. Even you.”

Hawke eyes held deep sadness and a hidden hurt as he said, “I have never seen the Makers kindness. Nor do I think, I ever will.”

Sebastian shook his head, and left with a heavy heart. Fenris gently touched Hawke’s shoulder, giving him wordless support. Hawke patted it gently and stood up to disappear into the mansion.

\-----

Later that night Hawke was settled in front of the fireplace with a book. Fenris sat across from him sharpening his blade with a stone. It was one of those peaceful moments he cherished with Fenris. Then heard Anders shouting in the distance. 

Hawke sighed, and put his book down. “Fenris can you go find out who Anders is yelling at.”

It took only a moment before Fenris returned, and said, “It’s a young man called Arn. Do you know him? Anders says he’s a Templar.”

“Arn?” Hawke sat up surprised. “Yes, please bring him. He’s an old friend.”

Fenris shouted down the hall and Arn Ducret appeared in the doorway with Anders on his heel. When Arn saw Hawke, he rushed forward and kneeling grabbed his hand. He said a prayer of thanks to the Maker before looking up with tears in his eyes. 

“Hawke, thank the Maker. When I had heard you were dead...” he swallowed thickly. “I thought I was all alone again. I just couldn’t deal with that. You were... are my only hope.” 

Hawke stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. “Easy, it’s ok. How about we go talk some where private?”

“No absolutely not! I don’t care if he is an old friend of yours, Hawke. I’m not leaving you alone with a Templar. ” Anders said with a angry tone. 

“You can and you will. I trust Arn as much as I trust you.” Hawke said firmly and then thought. “Which isn’t much but it is something.” Anders frown as Hawke led Arn into one of the storage room. He sat himself on a box as Arn watched him. 

“Are you alright, Hawke? That man said you were healing.” 

Hawke shrugged, and said, “Anders is exaggerating. Some bruises, some cust. Plus I’m a bit sick. Despite the fact that Anders insists I rest, I am healed. I’ve gotten worse before this. ”

“Maker, Hawke. You don’t know if I should believe you. You should hear the stories flying around.” Arn said, watching Hawke. 

“Like what?”

“That you jumped into a bottomless pit to save some kids and Andraste herself rescued you from your doom. They’re calling you the Child of Andraste, saying you are her desendant.”

Hawke snorted, “Which I’m not. Didn’t the Inquisitor prove that Andraste isn’t going to interfere with mortals.”

“Hawke,” Arn voice was hard and his expression serious. Hawke straighten up to listen. “I thought you died. I thought I was alone again trapped in this realm where I don’t even exist...It got me thinking.”

Arn began pacing as he spoke, “What if there are others trapped here by that Rift.”

“You mean the other Templars, and Inquisition forces that came with us?”

“Yes, what if they are just as alone and trapped as we are.” Arn turned and faced Hawke. “I want to find them. Bring them here, and we can go back together.”

“Arn, I said there is no guarantee of getting back.” Hawke said rubbing his chin. “And I just lost all my work with this Templar raid. I’m practically back to where I was in the beginning.”

“Then you can start again.” Arn grabbed his hand, and looked him squarely in the eye. “Promise me, Hawke. That you won’t stop looking for a way back.” 

Hawke looked into Arn’s desperate eyes and vowed, “I, Garret Hawke, swear to continue researching methods of reaching home.” Arn nodded and stepped back.

“What about the Templar’s? Are you going to quit?” Hawke asked. 

Arn scratched the back of his head looking embarrassed, as he said, “I’ve already left them. Well they actually threw me out because I punched the Knight Captain.” 

“What really?” Hawke’s face broke out in a grin. 

“I had heard that you were dead and I ... kind of lost my head. Knocked him out cold.” Arn explained sheepishly. “I feel bad about it now that your not really dead. But I can’t go back now. I’ll just have to make my own path. Thankfully I saved enough pay to buy passage on a ship.”

“So where will you be going?” 

“Rivain, first. I know that’s where Elroy was from. I’ll make sure to send you letters to keep you informed. Hopefully, I'll find them.”

“So your off adventuring,” Hawke said as he stood up and held out his hand. “May the Maker guide your step. And you keep yourself safe you hear.”

Arn grabbed it and said, “You keep yourself safe, Hawke. From what I hear you get into more trouble than I will.”

“Trust me this amount of trouble is nothing compare to what I normally get myself into before. And that was when I was trying.” Hawke said opening the door and letting Arn out. 

Arn chuckled, “Good bye, Hawke.”

“Bye, Arn.” Hawke watched him leave through the front door. He returned to the sitting area to find Anders, Varric and Fenris sharing a drink of wine.

“Your friend gone?” Anders asked stressing the word ‘friend’.

“Yes, Anders. And you shouldn’t be so hostile to him. He punched the Knight Captain and left the Templars.” Hawke replied, sitting down to pore himself some water. 

“Oh... I think I owe him a drink then,” Anders smiled and held out his cup in a toast.

“What did he want?” Fenris asked sipping. 

“Other than to see that I wasn’t a ghost. He came to tell me he was leaving Kirkwall.” 

“If he really punched the Knight Captain, I’m sorry to see him go. We need to throw that man a party.” Varric said.

“I’ll see him again, and when I do, we’ll celebrate.” Hawke then turned to Varric. “On a different note, what is this I hear about me being the Child of Andraste?” 

Anders choked on his wine and Varric grinned, “You like? I thought maybe the Child of the Maker. But I had to make it believable.”

“No, Varric it’s not believable.”

“Exactly, but people are listening to those stories.” Varric said and continued at Hawke’s confused expression. “You see, Hawke, having these bullshit stories flying around with the real tale make’s people question the truth of the story. Since Little Miss Kitty has stop announcing your story the real tale is getting mixed up with the fake ones I’ve been telling. Soon no one is going to believe that it really happened.”

“Hmm... you think that’s going to work?” Hawke scratched his chin. 

“I know it will work.”

“And the Templar’s will get away with it.” Anders snapped and sipped at his wine. 

“Don’t worry, Blondie. The Templars are on thin ice because of this. They are going to have to be careful for a while and even change a few things before people will be satisfied.”

“As long as there is no war, I’ll be satisfied,” Hawke remarked. “But don’t call me Child of Andraste anymore. The Chantry get antsy went people go around saying things like that. I’m not going to be set up to become the next Prophet or some such nonsense.”

“Sure, Hawke. I can think of some other things to call you. The Son of Legends. Or maybe the Lost King of Kirkwall.”

“How about Savior of the Small?” Fenris suggested, and Varric clapped his hands in approval.

Hawke thumped his head down on the table with a groan, “Can’t I just be plain old Hawke without any fancy titles?”

\-----

The day of the wedding wasn’t perfect weather, at least to Hawke’s standards. A thin line of clouds covered the sun, but it wasn’t going to rain. A comfortable breeze blew in from the sea, and the sounds of the sea birds filled the air. From the chosen spot along the cliffs, the horizon seemed to stretch endlessly around them. A single ship sailed in the distance, moving up and down on the waves. 

The coast had been cleared for that day. Hawke, Aveline, Bethany, and Carver had spent the day before killing any bandits in the area. Only the animals moved among the rocks, and the wedding party. Bear and Song were surprised to find that so many people appeared for their wedding. But they should have known that would happen as soon as they invited Hawke. Hawke made sure to get Bear’s fishermen companions to have the day off, as well as some of the prostitutes that Song used to know. The children of the Pit all came, escorted protectively by Fenris and Varric. And of course Hawke’s party were all there. Everyone wore decent and clean clothes. Even Isabela was decently dressed, in that she was wearing a actual dress that went pass her knees. 

The wedding party divided into two groups forming a path between them. Sebastian stood at the end, wearing formal Chantry red robes, and carried a book of scripture. Bear and Song walked hand in hand the entire way to the coast, and now parted sadly. Bear went to stand beside Sebastian. He wore a simple but handsomely cut black vest over a white shirt, with brown leggings and dark leather boots. 

The crowd fell silent as Song appeared. She looked beautiful. Bethany and Merrill had clawed their way through every dress maker in Kirkwall to find a perfectly fitting dress. Varric had gone to negotiate the price. Song was dressed in a long red gown, with a black corset, and white lace. Her beautiful blonde hair was braided with white flowers, by Merrill. There was no music playing as she strode down the pathway. But there didn’t need to be, the sounds of the waves and the birds were enchanting. 

Cub and Kitten had been simply dressed in brown and red, as everyone knew that they would be filthy by days end. They held on to Hawke’s hand, watching the people they considered their parents join each other. They stood hand in hand before Sebastian and turned to look at Hawke. Hawke had wanted to wear his Champion armor but it was still hidden in the Pit. So he wore black trousers, and a red shirt, with a black cape, pinned at his shoulder. Song had insisted on choosing his clothes for him. He passed Cub and Kittens hands to Cat, and strode to stand before the crowd. 

Hawke had refused a stool saying that people just needed to hear him, not see him. So only the people along the pathway and the front row could see him. Hawke cleared his throat and began to speak.

“Good Day, everyone. I have been asked by the bride to give the marriage speech. I don’t know why, seeing as I have never been to a wedding and know nothing about marriage. But how can you say ‘no’ to such a beautiful woman.”

A few people in the crowd chuckled, and Hawke continued, “Truthfully, I didn’t sleep last night trying to think about what I could say. What words would be meaningful and memorable. You should have seen how much ink I washed off myself this morning.” That earned another laugh, even Song giggled. 

“But in the end I concluded that ...” Hawke glanced back at the bride and groom. “I don’t need to say anything.”

Hawke turned his attention back to the crowd, saying, “I don’t need to talk about loving each other. I watched it bloom between them. I see it each time they stare at each other. Even when the other isn’t looking.

“I won’t preach about devotion. They have seen each other’s darkest side, and still took the others hand in their own.

“I don’t need to say anything about supporting each other. As they have stood back to back during the darkest days and held each other up. Together they can weather any storm and cherish every sunny day.

“I won’t tell you to be happy. I already see that you are. When you put your arms around each other you glow with happiness.

“I don’t have to speak about family. Every day in the Pit you showed kindness and compassion to the children. I know from the way you treat Cub and Kitten, that you will care for and protect every child you have.

“So I don’t need to convince the Maker that you are worthy to be married. Everyone already knows that you are. All that is left is for you to get married. ” Hawke ended his speech by bowing to the couple, and everyone followed his example. 

Song and Bear eyes shine with a mixture of emotion at the gesture, and they clutched each other’s hands tighter. They turned to each other sharing a wordless exchange of emotion with their eyes alone. 

Sebastian raised his hand, book in his arms and began to speak, ““In the name of the Maker who brought us this world. We say the chant of light. Blessed are they who stand before...”

Hawke stepped back, into the crowd watching Song and Bear, feeling such pride fill him. He felt like a proud father watching his child get married. Hawke had always wanted children of his own. To have the family that his father had with his mother. But he knew that because of his gender preference he never would. Not to mention it had never been safe for him to settled down and raise children. But here today he could feel that, as Bear and Song said their vows. 

Bear spoke in a low tone, speaking only to Song, “I, Benet Scoke, swear to the Maker and the Holy Andraste that I will love this woman for the rest of my days.”

“And I, Serena, swear to the Maker and the Holy Andraste that I will love this man for the rest of my days.” Song swore, not saying her last name as she had given it up many years ago.

“Then under the Makers eyes, I declare you, husband and wife.” Sebastian announced. The crowd cheered and the couple embraced each other in a deep kiss. Cub and Kitten raced forward barreling into their legs, breaking the kiss. Surprised Bear and Song picked up one of the toddlers each, and kissed them on the cheek. The beams of light appeared out of the clouds, lighting the ocean. 

Hawke leaned into Fenris, saying, “This is perfect.” And Fenris couldn’t help but agree.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, this a slow and sappy chapter. But I can't have Hawke life hard all the time. I had to make up some of the wedding rituals. But I think I kept it true to what I saw in the dragon age world. Tell me your thoughts. 
> 
> Have a Good Day!


	20. Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a simple day with Hawke and his companions.

Fenris carried sacks full of food back to the mansion. He has had to feed a larger number of people than he is used to. Living with Hawke had brought a lot of people into his life. Each of them were so different, that Fenris wondered how everyone fits together. But all of them had one thing in common and that was Hawke. He had brought them all together, and without any effort had made them into a group; Hawke’s companions.

Fenris shook his head, and continued on his way. As he entered the mansion, Fenris could hear distant shouting echoing through the halls. It was a change from the empty silence he was used to. He decided to store the food away before he went to investigate. 

He discovered Anders, Varric and Carver lounging in the main hall. Most of the furniture had been moved there for larger gatherings. Varric grinned at him, and gestured for him to take a empty seat. Fenris heard Hawke’s young voice echo and realized it had been coming from Dararius room.

“What's Hawke doing up there?” Fenris asked eyeing the dwarf. 

“We discovered that Dararius had a large bath tub in his room.” Varric replied, and Fenris nodded remembering that Dararius love to lounge in warm scented water. “The girls have taken it over to give Hawke a disguise.”

“A disguise?”

“Yes, Hawke wants to be able to leave the mansion freely but with so many people looking for him...” Varric shrugged, “He just can’t walk the streets anymore without a disguise.”

“How many people?” Fenris asked, tone hardening. He didn’t like the fact that Hawke had people hunting him. Fenris had enough experience with that to not wish that on Hawke.

“Well...There’s the Chantry trying to stop any rumors of him being of Andraste’s blood. The Templars of course are searching for Hawke because he is a mage. The Dwarf Merchant Guild is searching for him for some reason. But they won’t tell me. But now I hearding something about the Coterie as well, which is worrying.”

“No, no. Stop!” Hawke's voice squeaked. “Don’t touch there!” 

Merrill’s giggle was high, and she said, “Your so ticklish, Hawke.”

Fenris noticed Carver sitting lower in his chair, clearly sulking, as he said, “I don’t know what’s taking them so long.”

“I once asked one of my fellow apprentices, why she took so long to style her hair. I couldn’t feel my toes for a week.” Anders joked, and Varric clutched his gut in laughter. 

The door to the master bedroom opened an Isabela strode out to the balcony announcing, “The masterpiece is complete!” She gestured with her hand for Hawke to come forward. 

Hawke walked to the edge of the railing, or at least Fenris thought it was Hawke. Hawke had been entirely changed. In his place, stood a young blonde elven boy. A dalish tree like tattoo covered the upper portion of his face. Hawke's hair was comb back over his head, showing off a pair of long pointed ears. But what hadn’t changed was his blue eyes that held so much knowledge and courage. 

Varric whistled, “Look at that! I can’t even tell its you anymore.”

Hawke blushed at their stares and walked down the stairs, saying, “I don’t know why I have to have the ears and tattoo’s. The blonde hair would have been enough.” 

“Then you would have looked like Hawke with blonde hair. But now you look like a elven boy.” 

“I don’t think he looks like a elf. I means accept for the ears he’s missing many elven features.” Merrill said, wiping her hand on a piece of cloth. “I wanted to complete a full face da’len vallaslin to hide that fact."

“But he looks cuter this way,” Isabela playfully stroke Hawke’s face, and sat down beside him. Hawke put his chin in his hand, and pouted, which of course made him look cuter. 

“Most humans don’t look past the pointy ears and tattoo’s, Daisy. So I think he’ll be fine unless he tries to trick the dalish.” Varric commented. “But I must say you three do excellent work.”

“What did you just say, Merrill?” Carver asked.

“Oh, a da’len vallaslin? It means child tattoo. It’s a fake tattoo to help children learn to sit still during their vallaslin ritual. The tattoo will fade after about ten days.” Merrill explained and held up a herb. “It’s made from the leaves of henna.” 

“I also used a mixture of henna and minerals to dye his hair. It will last far longer than ladies dye.” Bethany said. “But your hair is going to show at the base where your hair grows, Hawke. If you want I can come back and dye it again when it starts to show.”

“Thank you but no. I saw what you did, and I think I can to it for myself in the future.” Hawke said shaking his head.

“But it was so much fun. If you let your hair grow we could tie ribbons in it and get you to wear a dress. Then no one would ever know it’s you.” Isabela said twirling a lock of his short hair. 

Hawke's expression was a mixture of horror and unhappiness. But he merely replied, “Dresses are impractical.” And hoped it was a sound excuse that he wouldn’t have to go through that again. Most of the group saw through his excuse and merely smirked at him. 

"What about the ears? How did you do those?" Fenris asked, staring at them trying to figure out where they fitted to Hawke's ear. 

"Oh, that. Its just some white clay, shaped to Hawke's ear. Don't pull on it because its hard to get back on." Isabela warned. 

“I think we need to give Hawke a new name for his disguise.” Varric announced. The companions agreed and Hawke shrugged his exeptance with the idea.

“Bun-bun!” Isabela shouted, and everyone stared at her. “What? He’s golden, soft, and smells like honey.”

“Only because of what you made me bathe in.” 

“It would have to be a dalish name,” Fenris said, and the group gaze turned to Merrill. 

“Toby!” they ignored Isabela, and Isabela grumbled “I knew a elf named Toby.”

Merrill fidgeted under their gaze and said, “The dalish often call children ‘da’len’, which means little one.” 

“No, I refuse to be called ‘little’ on a regular basis.” Hawke stated, and Varric chuckled.

“How about something that means hawk?” Bethany asked.

“Well, I don’t know any elven words meaning any type of bird. We mostly refer to them by their common names. Much of the elven language has been lost with the passage of time.” Merrill explained looking sad.

“Chukar!”

“How about Piffington?” Anders proposed

“I won’t have you naming me after one of your cats.” Hawke scowled at him, and Anders pouted as he had liked that name.

“Hanal'ghilan, means pathfinder. He was a mythical golden halla said to appear during times of great need.” Merrill suggested and got a skeptical nod by Carver. 

“Too long, Daisy. It needs to be short enough to remember and call out.”

“Fezzy!” 

Merrill fell silent as she began to think. So Carver said, “It doesn’t have to be dalish. Many city elves have tattoo’s.”

“Tikki!”

“How about Sparrow?” Bethany suggested. Varric thought about it a moment and said, “Too easy to link to Hawke.” 

“Really a little bird? Why are you all fixed on my height? I’m perfectly proportional for my age.” Hawke remarked. 

“It’s easy to pester you about it,” Isabela smirked.

Hawke sighed, “Why do I have friends like you?” 

“Falon...” Merrill spoke so softly that she almost wasn’t heard.

“What?”

Merrill gather herself and said, “Falon, it means...friend.” 

There was a moment of silence as smiled broke out across the group. 

“I think that will work, Daisy.” Varric shared a nod with Hawke, and Merrill blushed.

“I’m still going to call you Bun-bun.”

“Isabela!”

\-----  
Aveline stormed into the Hanged Man causing heads to turn and then quickly turn away as they saw the Guard Captain glaring at them. Varric had claimed a table by the fire and settled down for a quiet night. An idea that seemed to be quickly fading away. Isabela lay slumped against her chair with a bottle in one hand and a mug in another. Aveline stomped over and took the bottle.

“Hey!” Isabela said startled and saw Aveline down the rest of the wine.

Varric chuckled, “Rough day with the Guards?”

Aveline threw herself into the empty chair, “Maker, help me. How does one small child get into so much trouble?”

“Ah, I see you found our gift.”

“Gift! Is that what you call beating up a noble bastard who had kidnaped his servant and killed his wife. Then tying him up and leaving him for me to clean up?” she thumped the table with her gauntlet. 

“Rivaini makes such pretty knots doesn’t she.” Varric smirked and Isabela raised her drink in acknowledgment. 

“How did Hawke..."

"Falon, please remember to use that name when in public. There's enough wild tales without us adding to them." Varric intruppted. "Even I am beginning to get sick of them." 

Aveline made a face and said again, "How did Falon even get involved in the first place?” 

“Falon saw her getting pulled off the streets from one of the mansion windows.” Varric explained. “Of course he had to investigate. So he got me and Rivaini to help break into the mansion. We were just as surprised as you to find his wife’s corpse in the cellar.”

“And he couldn’t just come to me?”

“He knows you need good evidence to storm a place in Hightown. Falon's words alone wouldn’t have done it. Not to mention he's also still in hiding.”

“Hiding actually involves not being seen and no daring rescues. He just ...ugh!” Aveline slammed her forehead with the palm of her hand. 

“You know Falon. Here let me get you another drink.” Varric said waving his hand at the waitress. Norah brought another cup and a jug of ale. Varric refilled his own cup and found it swiped from his hands. Anders took a deep gulp of the ale and made a face at the taste. 

“Blondie, what a pleasant surprise. What brings you above ground?” Varric asked watching his lost cup sadly. 

“Hawke!” 

"Falon," the three at the table intrupted. 

Anders took a more forceful swing of ale. “He threw me out of the Clinic. My own Clinic!”

“So what did you do?” Isabela asked leaning on her elbow. She was fingering her full mug but not drinking it. 

“Why do you assume I did something? Falon could be doing a hostile take over.” Anders pulled up a chair and sat down beside them. 

Varric smirked, “Is Falon making a hostile take over? Should I get Bianca ready?”

“I can't say what plans he has but he took over my clinic.” Anders grumbled. “So what if I was getting into a fight with a patient. It had been a long two days! And he called Hawke...Falon a demon child. I was about ready to brain him with my staff when suddenly he’s asleep and I had my knee caps kicked in. Next thing I know I’m out on my ass and Falon tells me not to return until I change my mood. It’s not funny!”

Varric and Isabela were shaking with laughter, and Aveline lips had twitched into a smile. Anders pouted and grumbled into his ale. 

When Anders continued to complain, Isabela shoved her mug at him, “Here Anders, be a dear and drink this. It’ll make you feel better.”

“What’s in it?” Anders asked drinking it anyways. Anders eyes became unfocused and he slumped to the table. 

“What was in the drink?” Aveline asked, eying Isabela suspiciously. 

Isabela shrugged, “No idea, some guy gave me a drink and I’ve been carrying it around for most of the evening. He’s going to be most disappointed when he finds me not drugged tonight.”

“Isabela...”

“I can handle my own men. If you know what I mean.” Isabela suggested with a wicked smile and Aveline groaned. 

“Well at least he’s quiet now,” Varric remarked and Anders began to snore. 

Merrill’s voice echoed across the tavern as she said, “How do you think Falon gets to such high places?”

Merrill and Carver came into view. Carver leaned heavily on Merrill’s shoulder favoring his left leg. He replied, “Magic, I suppose.”

“Oh, do you think he’ll teach me? I’m forever having trouble reaching for things on the top shelf.”

Carver spotted the group, and limped over, “There you are Anders.” he grabbed the mages shoulder to shake him when Anders slid to the floor. 

“Great, of course your piss drunk,” Carver said agitated. Merrill lowered him gently to a bench and sat beside him. Isabela gave Varric a guilty look.

“So what happened, Junior?” 

“He slipped and fell off a roof trying to chase after a thief,” Merrill said when Carver hesitated. 

“And I need a healer. With my sister playing nursemaid at the Clinic and Falon charging off, Anders was my only hope of catching the thief.” Carver said nudging Anders with his good foot.

“I don’t know why you and Falon are trying so hard. I’m sure it’s a misunderstanding. I probably just misplaced my undergarments.” Merrill said innocently. That caught everyone’s attention. 

“Sure you did, Kitten. Your only pair.” Isabela stated eyeing Merrill. Both Merrill and Carver blushed bright red. 

“Oh, you two are just too cute. Here have a drink.” Isabela stole two cups from the passing waitress and hand them the cups. 

Clinking metal alerted them to Fenris presence as he approached them asking, “Varric where’s Hawke?”

"Falon." Everyone chorused, and Fenris scowl hardened at them. 

He nearly trips over the sleeping Anders and glared at the mage before stepping over him to reach Varric. He sat in Anders empty chair, saying, “I told him to be back by sunset. It’s nearly midnight.”

“Last I heard, he’s chasing after a underwear thief across Kirkwall,” Varric shrugged. 

Fenris growled, “When I find him, I’m going to put a collar on him and chain him to the mansion. He’s suppose to be in hiding.”

“He’d have the mansion in ruins in a matter of hours,” Varric joked. 

“You could get him a bell. Then you could find him easier.” Merrill suggested. None of them were sure if she was joking or not. 

“That’s an idea, Daisy,” Varric chuckled, then said. “Don’t worry, Broody. Falon will show up soon enough.”

The tavern door open and Bethany entered carrying the sleeping form of Hawke on her back. She spotted them and walked over, saying. “Ah, Merrill. Falon said you would be here.”

Careful not to disturb Hawke, Bethany handed Merrill a package, “All there, safe and sound.”

“Oh thank you. I’m such a failure at sewing that I don’t know what I would have done if I had lost them.” Merrill said, pressing the rolled up package to her chest. 

“Deary, you and me are going to do some shopping tomorrow.” Isabela said.

"Really!" Merrill said, and she looked excited. 

Fenris gently lifted Hawke off Bethany saying softly, “Hawke...”

“Fenris...” Hawke said drowsily and rapped his arms around Fenris's neck. “I’m home.”

Fenris expression soften to something the companions have never seen before. So nobody tried to correct him about Hawke's name. He quickly recovered his scowl and said, “Lets get you to bed.” Hawke mumbled into Fenris chest, as Fenris easily carried him away. 

“And there he goes reminding us why we care so much about him,” Varric said aloud, watching Hawke and Fenris leave. 

“Yes,” Aveline sighed heavily. 

“That was rather cute. Hawke reminds me of a baby griffon. All feathers and big eyes with sharp claws hidden away.” Merrill commented. “Not that I’ve seen a real baby griffon.”

“Of course, then he grows up to bite your head off,” Carver grumbled.

“Don’t be jealous. Now let me see your foot.” Bethany said kneeling down in front of her brother. Then she noticed Anders on the ground beside her and she asked, “What happened to Anders?”

“The drinks didn’t agree with him,” Isabela said quickly and Bethany seemed to accept that. 

“So what happened to the thief?” Carver asked and hissed in pain as Bethany lifted his foot to examine it. 

Bethany began healing as she replied, “Falon said he left him contemplating his life choices.”

“Hmm, I wonder what he meant by that?” Merrill asked letting Carver lean on her shoulder. 

Sebastian barged in calling, “Aveline! There is a naked elf tied to a statue of Andraste outside the chantry.”

“Ask and you shall receive your answer,” Varric broke out into laughter. 

“This I have got to see,” Isabela stated and stood up to leave. 

Aveline groaned and thumped her head on the table.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was originally part of Chapter 19 but if felt it made the chapter too long. And is fine on it's own. I kind of just had fun with this chapter. I tried to be random and funny.   
> What would you name Hawke disguise? 
> 
> Have a Good Day!


	21. The Hunter and the Hunted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hawke is out in the city and a Hunter comes after him.

The day was cold, dark, and dreary in Kirkwall. Grey clouds lingered in the sky, drizzling rain over the stone walls which dulled the colors. A light wind blew, biting and cold, dragging dead leaves down empty streets. A lone figure draped in a heavy cloak darted crossed the street heading towards one of the houses of Hightown. It was one of the older houses of Kirkwall, it’s moldering walls covered in thick vines. 

The figure swiftly clung to the wet vines, and with a grace one would have thought unnatural of someone of his size, he climbed the wall. He swung himself over the railing, landing softly on the stone balcony. The sound of scraping metal startled him. He spun around, dagger half drawn to see the shape of a elf hidden in the shadows and sitting in a chair. The elf was sharpening a large knife.

“It’s been half a glass since your appointed meeting with his majesty, Edzard.” the elf said with a warning tone as he pointed his dagger at him.

“Patience is a virtue of the hunter. One does not rush the hunt, Jokumsen.” Edzard said pulling back his hood revealing his dark skin face. He untied his cloak and hung it on the cloak rack by the door. He wore only a brown leather vest lined with white fur that showed off his muscular arms and chest. A large black sack was tied to his belt. 

“One does not make his majesty wait,” Jokumsen replied spinning his dagger. “Did you at least complete your task?” 

“When I have ever failed to complete a hunt?” Edzard stated angrily and toss the sack at Jokumsen. Jokumsen caught it and feeling the shape realized what was inside. 

“Another trophy? You have a sick hobby, Edzard.” Jokumsen wrinkled his nose and tossed it back to Edzard. 

“Only the most worthy prey gets mounted on my wall. This...” Edzard said holding up the sack. “Was a easy kill. Not worthy of my time.”

“And yet you’re still late. I don’t know why his majesty employs you. Your only a glorified assassin. Less because an assassin knows how to keep to a contract.”

“Watch it, knife ears. I am a Hunter, with the glory of my ancestors in my veins.” Edzard glanced at Jokumsen with a sneer, “The leader of the Coterie needs my skills because he can’t rely on common thieves to complete his tasks. Or is that not why you’re on guard duty?”

Both of them had their daggers ready in a matter of seconds, staring each other down. But before Edzard and Jokumsen could clash, the door open and a dwarf stepped out, saying, “Come along, Hunter, his majesty is waiting.” 

“Your lucky elf.” Edzard said, as he straighten his appearance before he proceeded inside. 

As the door closed Edzard heard the elf remark,“Watch your back from now on.”

The balcony was used far more as a entrance than the front door. That was because this was the well known headquarters of the Coterie. So the balcony room was set up like a entrance hall. The interior of the stately home was luxurious decorated, displaying the wealth of the Coterie. Several couches and tabled lined the room, occupied by a variety of people from all walks of life. Each waiting for their turn in the presence of the man known as the King of Thieves.

“I shall relieve you of that, miser,” the dwarf held out his hands for the sack Edzard was carrying. “His majesty is waiting for you in the library. Through the door on the left.” With that statement the dwarf turned and left carrying the head in a sack on a tray like it was nothing more than a piece of glassware. 

Edzard went through the indicated door and headed directly towards the end of the hallway, careful not to leave any foot prints on the wooden floor. A large wooden door loomed at the end hallway, taking over the space with it dark presence. Two armored men stood at it’s side as still and decorated as the rest of the place. Edzard felt their eyes on him as he knocked on the door and waited to be admitted.

It was a long minute before a thin wiry voice called, “Enter.”

Edzard pushed open the heavy door with a bit of effort, and strode into a two story library. The entire square room was covered in book shelves from wall to wall. There were no windows, as the large space was lit only but torches and candles giving it a dark and ominous feeling. A single spiral staircase connected the first and second floors. A hornless qunari sat in front of the stair, and stared hard at him. Its gaze wasn’t that of a protector but that of a killer who is tolerating your presence. 

“You are late, Sir Charles Edzard.” 

Edzard heart jumped in his chest when he heard that voice for he hadn’t sensed any other presence. Reluctantly he turned his back to the qunari to turn to the source of the voice. A study was built on the second floor left of Edzard. A large fire place illuminated a large desk and chair placed in front of it. The large backed chair shadowed its occupant from the light of the fireplace. And Edzard bowed low as he said, “I apologize, your majesty, for my tardiness.”

The shadowed man leaned forward to stare at Edzard, revealing his figure. This man was known to the thieves of Kirkwall as King, Marius K. Vintners, leader of the Coterie. He had far more control of Kirkwall then the Viscount. He was a older man, silver hair glowing as the light touched it, but his eyes were as dark as the void threatening to swallow Edzard. He had a thin mouth that never moved from it’s thin line, showing no emotion. He was pale from lack of exposer to light rather than a natural color. But Edzard had met no other man who perfectly embodied the features and personality of a scorpion. 

“No excuse, no lie, or possible reasoning?” Vintners pinned Edzard with his gaze as if he was pulling Edzard apart bit by bit. “Are you not afraid of my wrath?”

The qunari growled louder behind him and Edzard squared his shoulders before he said, “I only expect the same punishment as any other. So I see no need for wasted words.”

“A satisfactorily answer.” Vintners scratched out a note in a small book. “But enough time has been wasted. Have a seat, and I shall tell you why I have called on your services.”

Edzard felt a tingle of danger run through his body. The lingering presence of the unspoken punishment hung in the air over his head like a guillotine. He sat down at one of the three chair positioned in front of the desk choosing the one in the middle.

“I assume you want someone hunted and killed.” Edzard stated boldly. 

“Never assume anything; think, know, and understand.” Vintners stated coldly. Then he pushed a piece of parchment towards him and asked, “Do you know who this is?”

Edzard took the parchment and had to turn around so he could use the light to see the image on it. It was a colored sketch of a young boy wearing a grey blue cloak.

“A boy? From the way he’s dressed he doesn’t have any wealth. A street rat.” Edzard lowered the parchment in disgust. 

“That is Hawke, the illusive Mage Child.” Edzard blinked in surprise at Vintners words. “Ah, I see you have heard of him. But that is to be expected with so many wild tales being told about him.”

Edzard took a closer look at the image, taking in the details. The boy was looking over his shoulder with a small stubborn frown. While his face was young and round, his nose was sharp and oval. Short black hair stuck out from under the hood. But the artist had taken the most time detailing the eyes. They were a stunning azure blue lined with silver, standing out against the parchment. Slightly narrowed, the eyes seem to hold a inner fire of their own.

“Half the things said about him can’t be true, he barely looks eight years old.”

“Yet most of the tales hold a grain of truth and there are even more unknown stories about him,” Vintners said with a lofty air. “My spies have confirmed that he did indeed kill the Captain of the White Vipers, Ravinger Gineste. He also hunted and killed the elf serial killer, Kelder Vanard. He also escaped from and killed a slaver known as Reiner. These alone make him note worthy. But he also has killed Crow assassins, thieves and thugs of Low town and the Under city that have gone after him. He may have also face a high dragon and lived.”

“Truly? Did he not have the aid of other companions.” Edzard said with disbelief. 

“It is true that there are those who come to his aid. But his mark is unmistakable. As his title states, Hawke is a mage. An accomplished and skilled mage. Very few people have lived to see the extent of Hawke’s powers but the results speak for themselves. He is also a spirit healer.”

“So?” 

“Do not scoff at that statement. Spirit healer are rare, any mage with minimal of talent can cast a healing spell. But a spirit healer can heal entire groups of people. This talent takes years of study in anatomy and even more magical power to accomplish. But he can be regularly seen healing the sick along side the Warden.” Edzard could hear the wonder in Vintners voice but it was covered by the tone of desire.

“And he is barely more than a child. Surely he can’t be a worthy target enough to warrant my skills. ” Edzard said leading back in disappointment.

“A child he is. But every attempt made to secure him has ended with either my men killed or maimed. Then he disappears into the depths of the Under City. Which brings me back to why I have brought you here.” Vintner explained and leaned forward as he stapled his fingers together under his chin. Edzard waited for him to explain. 

“I want you to capture the Mage Child, and bring him to me. Do this and you shall be rewarded.” 

“How much?”

While Vintners lips did not move Edzard could feel a satisfied air about him as he said, “That shall depend on how quickly you can capture Hawke. With each day that passes the reward will decrease. Starting as soon as you leave the library.”

Edzard clenched his teeth but manage to say in a steady voice, “Your desire shall be completed with haste.” Edzard stood abruptly and strode towards the door. 

Just as Edzard gripped the door handle, Vintners spoke again, “Oh, and Edzard if you manage to fail at this task. Hope Hawke kills you, because you will know longer be known as the Hunter but as the Prey.”

 

Hawke sat in the window of Fenris’s mansion, dangling the Broken Stone from its black chain in front of him. His thoughts wandered back to the oath he had sworn to Arn. Was he wrong to give Arn false hope that he could go back? 

“But was it false hope?” Hawke wondered to himself. He had felt he had hit a dead end in his research of the Time Rift Rune due to his lack of knowledge and understanding of theoretical magic, and rift magic, as well as the blood magic that had fueled it. That didn’t mean he couldn’t learn. If he wanted to go back he had to learn. But did he want to go back? Was he making a difference here or was he just messing up the time line to the point the Thedas would be destroyed? Hawke sighed, at his confusing thoughts. 

“Ah, Hawke. Have you seen Fenris?” Varric appeared in the doorway. Hawke quickly hid the Broken Stone in his pocket and jumped down from the window.

“He probably went down to the cellar to get some food. I’ll show you a short cut.” Hawke said, and went to one of the walls and pushed open a hidden door. 

“Well, look at that. This place has a hidden side to it.” Varric said as he followed Hawke down a narrow staircase.

“It was owned by a Magister, of course it has hidden passages for slaves and spies to come and go.” Hawke said rounding a sharp corner of the stairs with a jump.“I discovered this passage yesterday by accident. I’m sure there’s more.”

“Been bored haven’t you?” Varric asked, holding the walls for stability on the wooden stairs that seemed too thin to hold his weight. 

“Can’t say that I’ve ever had this much free time in my life.” Hawke replied and rammed his shoulder against a section of the wall to force it open. Hawke held open the door for Varric to come through, and asked, “How goes funding the expedition?”

“Slowly, the Amell’s still haven’t managed to raise the right amount of funds, and Bartrand is breathing down my neck about it.” Varric sighed as he climbed out of the passage. He found that they were in the kitchen storage room, and the secret passage had been hidden behind a cupboard. 

Hawke pushed the cupboard back into place, asking, "Do you want my help?”

“Hawke, your too eager to help everyone. I can’t take your money.” Varric shook his head. 

Hawke crossed his arms, “Just because I’m a orphan doesn’t mean I am poor. During the recent market Days I gained fifteen gold coins partnering with Tomwise. Since I don’t have a bunch of kids to feed anymore, I’d be willing to give it to you.”

“Hawke, don’t make promises you can’t keep,” Fenris appeared in the opening to the cellar. He was carrying a bundle of cheese, bread, and wine in his hands. 

“Not to mention you are out of work for the moment.” Varric commented, taking the wine out of Fenris hands to look at it. “You’ll need that for your future.” Fenris took the wine back and placed it on one of the racks. 

“Exactly, since I can’t work I need to invest my money somewhere. And who better invest in than my good friend Varric.” Hawke waved his hand at Varric. “Not to mention I know you’ll double my investment when you find that dwarven ruin your looking for.”

“But Hawke, I thought you lost everything in the Templar raid.” Fenris remarked with a frown.

“What I lost was a place of refuge, most of my staffs, and my research.” Hawke replied with a frown. “But you remember how I hide my chest. I’m sure its still there. I just need to go down there and retrieve it. It’ll take me less than half a glass.” 

“No, Hawke. Your not going back to the Pit. It’s currently being watched by the Templar’s.” Varric said firmly. 

“I can get around a single Templar.”

“No, your not doing anything crazy like climbing the Pit or something.” Varric remarked and Fenris gaze sharpen. 

“I wasn’t going to do that. But that is a idea.” Hawke remarked trying to joke. 

“No, Bethany, or Anders can retrieve your chest. That would be safer for you.” Varric tone was serious and Hawke knew he couldn’t argue with him when he got that way. “But we’ll do that after we return from the coast. Which brings me back to why I was looking for you Fenris.”

“Me?”

“Yes, Carver was wondering if you would like to go catch some escaped mages, with the three of us. We’ll be heading up the coast perhaps for a day or two, depending how far they ran.” Varric explained. 

Fenris looked over to Hawke, and asked, “You’d be alright if I leave you alone?”

Hawke nearly rolled his eyes, and waved his hand in a shooing motion, “I’ll be fine. I promise I won’t burn the mansion down.”

Fenris lips twitched and he said, “Very well, Varric. I shall accompany you on this quest.”

“Don’t make it sound all dramatic. It just a job that hopefully pays well.” Varric said turning to leave the room. 

Hawke followed them to the entrance, and watched them leave. Fenris turned around and said to him, “Stay out of trouble.” 

This time Hawke did roll his eyes, and shut the door without commenting. Varric, Anders and Fenris had all become very protective of him since the Templar raid. All of them had seen first hand the injuries he had from that night. While he had dismissed them, it seems that they had taken them to heart. And while Hawke appreciated their caring for him, he didn’t like being coddled. 

“Its just to the Pit. And with my disguise, I should be able to get to the Pit and back with no one the wiser.” Hawke thought. “What could happen?” Hawke squared his shoulders, and went to put on his ears.

 

“The Maker just likes to prove me wrong,” Hawke grumbled as he ducked behind a barrel, avoiding a arrow streaking over his head. He had just gotten to the Lowtown roof tops when a arrow came out of nowhere and hit the wall in front of him. Hawke felt his heart pounding in his chest, and he took a second to breathe again.

Carefully Hawke glanced out of his hiding spot, trying to spot where the shooter was aiming from. The roof tops around him were empty of any figures or strange shadows. Then a glint of light caught his attention. Someone was standing on one of the higher walls of High Town with a spyglass. Hawke’s mouth dropped open, that was nearly 400 yards away. Too far for him to strike at the figure with his magic. All he could do was protect himself and get out of sight of the bowman. 

Hawke cast a Barrier around himself and darted out of his hiding place. A arrow hit the ground before his feet, but Hawke kept running. He jumped across the break between buildings heading for more cover. As soon as he landed he felt his foot hit something metallic. Instantly the claws of a metal trap closed around his ankle. Hawke cried out in pain, and his concentration on his barrier broke. He felt that he would be hit in the head at any moment and had to move quickly. He reached down to push on the quick release lever, and the trap snapped open. Stumbling on his injured ankle, Hawke reached the cover of the building’s chimney. 

Hissing in pain, Hawke examined his injury. Blood from where the trap had broken the skin trickled down his ankle on to the roof. But Hawke didn’t feel any broken bones. He healed his wound and sighed with relief from the pain. He stayed in his hiding place, uncertain of where to go with traps scattered about. 

“If Varric was here, he could spot the traps easily.” Hawke said to himself. “Damn. He’s going to gloat about being right. I can’t go anywhere without getting into trouble.”

It was oddly quiet, and Hawke noticed the bowman hadn’t fired again. Hawke thought, “Even when he had the chance to hit me while I was caught. Only a idiot could have missed that shot.” 

Hawke glance back at the bowman, who was staring at him with his spyglass. 

“What in the Void is he doing? Who is he targeting? Why the traps?” Hawke swore, and ducked away. Hawke then realized something. “What do I care? He’s clearly not coming down from there. I just have to avoid his eyesight, and get down from the roof tops.” 

Hawke spotted a roof top entrance, and made a break for it. He forced it open with his magic and dove inside. He was pleased to find himself in the upper floor of a Foundry. Bellow him men and dwarves poring hot ore into molds. It was busy, full of workers, working in the heat of the furnace. Nobody noticed Hawke's tiny form carefully moving behind crates in the shadows. He found a open side door and carefully snuck out into the daylight. Hawke walked out of the Foundry, and took a deep breath of fresh air. He glanced up at Hightown, knowing the bowman would still be there but couldn’t see him. Hawke shrugged his shoulders and hid in the crowds of Lowtown. 

 

Edzard had been effectively frustrated with his hunt. Hawke was indeed proving a illusive prey. Mostly do to the fact that he had no known residence. Edzard had set his traps up on the Lowtown roof tops because that was where Hawke had been seen the most. But so far only a couple of thieves had stumbled onto them. He thought he had found Hawke when a young boy ran across the roof tops dodging every trap and arrow shot at him. But the boy had red hair and mismatching eyes. So not Hawke. 

Then a little blonde elf had climbed on to the roofs. Edzard had shot of couple of warning shots to keep him away from his traps. But the bold fellow had charged ahead straight into one of his claw traps. Edzard gave a frustrated sound, now that he would have to go down and set the trap again after the elf broke free. 

Edzard watched the elf with his spyglass, and was surprised to see a pair of azure eyes staring back at him. The elf’s stare was quite similar to that the portrait of Hawke. But he couldn’t be. Suddenly the elf ran from his hiding spot and broke a door open with magic. 

“And he ran on two feet. A healer.” Edzard smile widened. “A clever little fennec. Disguising yourself as a elf. Would have fooled anyone, except the Hunter.” Edzard searched for the little blonde elf with his spyglass, but the crowds and buildings got in the way. 

“No matter.” Edzard stowed the spyglass away, and strapped his bow to his back. “I have seen my quarry. The Hunt has begun. Come Hound!” A larger dark brown mabari rushed to follow him, chain dangling from it’s neck. 

Edzard headed to the roof top where he had seen Hawke get caught by his trap. He pulled his mabari on to the roof. Edzard smiled predatorily when he saw the blood splattered on the trap. He tugged on the chain, and pointed at the trap, saying the command, “Smell.”

The mabari sniffed the trap, and licked at the blood. Edzard tugged Hound back and then commanded him to track the smell. The mabari followed the blood trail to were it ended, and then to the open door. Hound strained against his chain, trying to pull the Hunter faster. Men and dwarves shouted at him as he walked through the Foundry. But one growl and snap from Hound silenced them. Hound led him through Low Town to the steps of the Under City. Edzard released Hound, and the mabari charged off into the tunnels. 

“You won’t be able to disappear this time, Hawke. Your days of freedom are numbered. The Hunter will catch you.” Edzard promised as he followed his mabari. 

 

Hawke made it to the Pit without another incident. He had been surprised to find that the Templar watching the area had been drugged and stripped of his armor. But this was Dark Town and many of it’s residents held grudges against the Templar’s. Not to mention them being stationed in the tunnels was disruptive of the flow of Dark Town. Hawke made a quick check of the Pit looking for anymore Templars. 

Finding only shadows, Hawke headed directly to his work area. He had wanted to grab his sleeping furs but knew it would take too long to carry everything. Hawke cast his spell, raising his chest from the dirt, when he felt a murderous presence. Hawke swore at himself and wasted no time in casting his Barrier. He saw movement in the shadows to his side and cast a paralyzing rune on the ground. He felt the hidden figure, step on it and become trapped under his magic. 

Hawke lit the torches with a wave of his hand, chasing away all the shadows. He took a second to focus on the person trap in his spell. He recognized the little red hair boy, frozen in the moment of drawing a dagger. 

“Red? Bloody balls, what are you doing here?” Hawke released the spell. Red stumbled a bit as he was released from the magical hold, and stared at Hawke.

“Hawke?” Red tilted his head in confusion. 

“Yes?” Hawke crossed his arms and frowned.

Red broke out in a smile, and he leapt forward, “Hot damn, it is you.”

Hawke felt the prickling sensation of being watched, and glanced about. There were still shadows in the cave, despite the light of the torches. Hawke narrowed his eyes at his mining cart, “Red, did you come with...?” Hawke dropped the sentence as he felt Red tug on his ears. He swatted his hand away, saying, “Stop it! You don’t know how long it takes to get these on.”

“You look weird,” Red said, touching Hawke tattoo instead. 

“I know. But too many people are looking for me.” Hawke replied, stepped back. He glanced back at the shadows but the feeling was gone. 

“Who’s after you?” Red invaded his space again, grabbing his shoulder.

Hawke shrugged, saying “It’s a shorter list to say who isn’t after me. The Templar’s are actively searching for me. The Chantry has an eye out for any signs of me. Some apostate mages are on the run and want my help. The Dwarf Merchant Guild would like to have some words with me. I can’t go near the Dock because a Qunari is grabbing blue eyed children.” Hawke sighed at the list.

“And the Coterie.” Red added, counting down the number of people on his fingers.

“What?” Hawke exclaimed. 

“The Coterie has ordered your capture. The Hunter has set up in Lowtown hunting you. He’s has the roof tops trapped and been shooting at people for the past day or two.”

“Yes, I met him briefly on the way here...” Hawke shook his thoughts in order. “Wait, how do you know that?”

“You should have seen me, Hawke. I dodged every shot he made. One even came within a hair length of my toes.” Red said dancing on his toes in demonstration. 

Hawke frowned, “Great. Now, how do you know he’s from the Coterie?”

“Yes, well...” Red looked a bit sheepish. “I’m an assassin apprentice...” He left the sentence hanging, clearly waiting for Hawke to make a statement on that fact.

“So?” Hawke said raising his eyebrow in question,

Red dropped his shoulders, “What? No response? No noble speech about choosing a better path or being too young to be a killer? Nothing?”

“I’ve known that about you since I met you, Red.” Hawke rolled his eyes, saying, “The choice of what you do with your life is yours alone. And I can’t say anything about being too young as I am clearly younger than you and have killed people before. But I will say this. If you come after anyone I know I will drag you back into the Deep Roads for the dragon to eat.”

Red stared at him with a half cocked head, saying, “You’re different, Hawke.”

“I like to think I am original.” Hawke replied, then gestured with his hand. “I’m still waiting for a answer.”

“Oh, the Hunter is well known among the Coterie. Some nobleman, named Charles Edzard, who fell out of grace and became a assassin for hire, known for his hunting techniques.” Red explain, mimicking a shooting a bow. “Since he is in the same field as my master, he takes note of why the Hunter is in the city. When I heard he was after you, I came to warn you, Hawke.”

“Thank you for that. Now I know who I’m dealing with. And that he will come after me.”Hawke said. Hawke open his chest and began stripping off the leather armor he had been wearing. He felt Red's eyes on him as he stripped. Most people glanced away when someone was naked, but Red was staring.

Hawke gave him a pointed glance, asking, “What?”

Red was tracing the mixture of scars on Hawke’s chest with his eyes, “You have more scars than I do.”

“Yes, well, as I have been told. I have a tendency to get into trouble.” Hawke replied, pulling up his leather pants. Hawke strapped every piece of his armor on with practice ease. Red took Hawke’s gauntlets and began clicking the iron claw fingertips together. Hawke rolled his eyes and beckoned them back.

Once Hawke was fully armored he began to load the rest of his chest into his pack. Thankfully he had gotten rid of all the junk he had collected, and now he had only a few things he had needed to keep away from the children. He had several runes, and potions packed carefully in a box. He picked up a Tar Bomb and decided to put it on his belt than in his pack. Hawke fingered the five weapons in the chest wondering which one he should take. Each of them were enchanted and valuable enough that he hadn’t just wanted to sell them. 

Picking up a pair of daggers with a gold hilt and hollowed scandi blade edge, he tossed them to Red. “Here,” he said, “These are yours. Payment for information received.” Red drew the blade and began to swing it, testing it’s balance. He spun it in his hand only to have the dagger go spinning out of his hand.

“Its ... peculiar. I wasn’t spinning that fast.” Red said, picking the dagger up.

“It’s enchanted for increased dexterity. It might feel different than a normal blade. If you hold it your attacks will become faster. So you will need to learn to adjust yourself for that. Should give you a little bit more of a edge in battle.” Hawke said.

He considered the other three weapons. The Runt's Spiker is a horned curved bow, but Hawke had no arrows to wield it, so he decided to leave it. The Notched Sword is a unique longsword, with a double edged sword with a circle cross guard and pummel. The longer grip allowed him to hold it with two hands if needed. He liked it because it enhanced his mana as well as being light enough for him to wield. Picking it up he strapped it to his belt. The last weapon was Thudpucker's Fist, a heavy spiked mace that Hawke barely had the strength to carry. He decided Aveline deserved it after dealing with so much trouble in the city lately. It would scare all the recruits into line. He strapped it onto his back. 

“You look ready for war.” Red commented. “Ready to eliminate that Hunter?”

“I...” Hawke paused and heard the sounds of a dog barking in the tunnels. Dogs weren’t uncommon in Dark Town as a few criminals use them for protection and food. But Hawke knew that sound. The bark of a mabari on the hunt. Hawke felt the tinkle of danger run up the back of his neck. 

“Maker... Red. We’ve got to move. There’s a small tunnel entrance over by the hut.” Hawke said and began to run across the Pit. A wooden panel leaning against the wall cover the dug out opening. Hawke pulled it out of the way, and gesture for Red to go first. 

Red lowered himself crawling on his belly, commenting, “More cave crawling. I’m going to turn into a dwarf at this rate.”

Hawke tossed the sword through first then his pack, as Red pulled them out of the way. A loud bark echoed in the cave. Hawke turned to see a mabari at the entrance. 

“Shit!” Hawke shouted and dived for the opening. Seeing Hawke flee, the mabari charged him. Hawke scrambled in the dirt, rushing to get through, that he forgot the mace on his back. The spiky mace got stuck on the rock over the opening and Hawke was stuck halfway through. He could hear the mabari heavy breathing getting closer. 

Red was there cutting the maces strap, and pulled Hawke through. The mabari was on the opening, but the mace now blocked it. Teeth flashed around the mace, and the mabari began to dig at the dirt. Hawke didn’t stay to watch, picking up his pack and sword, he ran down the tunnel with Red on his heels. Hawke took several twists and turns through the tunnel. Until they stopped for breath. 

“We should have lost them now...” Hawke gasped out. 

Red breathing hard as well replied, “Not for long. That mabari had your scent. The Hunter’s after you now. And pretty ears aren’t going to hide you.” 

Hawke groaned, “I’m going to have to get rid of him before I return to the mansion. Before anyone finds out.”

“So how are you going to do that?”

“You said that he was a nobleman. Is he arrogant about his abilities?” 

“A noble arrogant?” Red scoffed. “Is the sky blue?”

Hawke fingered the circle of his sword thinking, “Then he would be over confident on terrain of his own choosing. I can use that against him. But...”

“We.” Red stated catching Hawke’s attention. “He shot at me, too.” 

Hawke smiled at him and clapped him on the shoulder, “Thank you. He doesn’t know about you. And you can use your assassin skills against him. Never have I been more thankful to know a assassin.”

Red beamed with pride, saying, “So have a plan? Or are we going to make it up as we go?”

“Half a plan,” Hawke replied, giving a short description of his idea. Red nodded and ran off down the tunnel leaving Hawke alone in the dark. Hawke checked his pack and readied himself for a fight. As he did so Hawke keep feeling like he was being watched, and checked the tunnel. Seeing nothing there Hawke felt paranoid, and rubbed his neck, shaking off the feeling. 

“Let’s go. The hunter is about to find how dangerous this prey really is.” 

 

“ There you are.” Edzard thought seeing his target climbing up the stairs from Dark Town.

Hound was only suppose to flush the little fennec out of its hole. The boy no longer wore his shambled leather clothes and now was clad in armor. He carried a long sword, that he used like a walking stick. Edzard felt a rush of anticipation. His prey was ready for battle, and that would make for a glorious hunt. 

From his roof top hiding spot he waited and watched as his prey moved into the shadow of a building, and scaled the side. He moved with practiced ease, even carrying the long sword on his back. Edzard was surprised the little boy was so agile. Hawke was now on the rooftop, stepping carefully and watching his surroundings. A pleased smile crossed his lips. While hunting he had been surprised to find that very few of his prey actually watched their surrounding. 

Edzard lay on the top on the roof of three tier building, hidden from Hawke’s scanning eyes. The roof tops of Kirkwall were hidden routes but were limited in it’s pathways going across the city. He had chosen this spot because it lay along the roof top pathway his pray had to travel if he was going back the way he came. Now he watched and waited as his prey approached. 

A Caltrop trap lay in Hawke’s way and he had to move closer to the wall to avoid it. As Hawke stepped under Edzard’s hiding spot, Edzard lunged forward, and grabbed the boy. Edzard rapped Hawke in his strong arms, pinning him against his chest, and trapping his arms. Using his other arm he placed Hawke in a choke hold. The young boy struggled and fought his grip with no effect. 

“Hush, be still. A worthy prey must know when the hunter has won.” Edzard whispered into Hawke’s ear. 

The boy still thrashed against his hold, and gasped out, “I...am not...prey.”

So focused on his prey was Edzard that he didn’t noticed the dagger plunging itself into his shoulder till he heard a child’s laugh, and a weight on his back. Edzard grunted in pain as he felt the dagger being pulled out. He used one of his arms to dislodge his unknown enemy, and flung him into the wall. Hawke used that moment to release a mind blast knocking Edzard to the ground. Blazing pain cast white stars in Edzard vision, as he lay on his back, recollecting his thoughts. Hound suddenly appeared over him, growling at his masters enemies. 

He heard Hawke speaking, “Red, you alright?” 

“I missed, I can’t believe I bloody missed,” another young boy spoke. “He's a big enough target I should have hit his heart dead on.”

“You forgot to adjust for the dagger’s enhancements.” Hawke replied. “Shame, though. That almost went perfectly as planned.”

Edzard’s mind began to whirl as he pulled himself up holding his bleeding shoulder. His thought echoed loud in his ears, “Planned! That boy had planned to be caught to give his ally an opening to kill me!” 

Edzard pulled out his hunting dagger and studied the two boys standing in front of him. The red hair boy he had seen before stood with Hawke. Red as Hawke called him, grinned at him with a wild smile. Red carried a pair of daggers, and one had his blood on it. He was bouncing on the balls of his feet, waiting to lundge forward. Hawke on the other hand stood tall and still watching Edzard as he watched him. Hawke’s eyes held no glow within them any more, but were now cold and calculating. There was no emotion on his face. Neither of these children were afraid of him, and were ready to kill him. Edzard felt a trickle of doubt cross his mind. Hounds growling echoed loudly over the roof tops. 

Then Hawke spoke, voice cold and threatening, “Leave Hunter, and never return. If you do you will live. Come after me again and you will die.” 

“What? Aren’t we going to kill him?” Red asked with near whine. 

“I don’t have time for a lengthy battle. I’ve wasted enough time with this ... hunt.” Hawke replied watching Edzard with arrogant eyes. 

Edzard felt his blood boil and as he thought, “This mere street rat thinks of me...the Hunter Charles Edzard as a mere waste of time! I shall show him the true skills of a hunter.”

“Hound, kill!” Edzard snarled, eyes blazing. He threw lead-weighted darts at the boys. Hawke waved his hands and created a shimmering barrier protecting them both from Hounds attack and the darts. Hawke handed Red a dark ball, with a command that Edzard couldn’t hear. The red head grinned manically as he jumped out of the barrier drawing Hounds attention. Hound chased Red snapping at his heels as the boy leaped and dodged around the roof. 

Edzard turned his attention to Hawke who drew his sword and held it tip down. Hawke began to cast as spell, and Edzard had to act fast. He pulled out a chain from his belt and tossed the heavy weighted end at the boy mage. Hawke knocked the weight out of the air with his force magic, also hitting Edzard throwing him back against the roofs railing. Snarling Edzard stood back up against the pain, and Hawke was glowing with magic again. 

Edzard knew he had to stop Hawke from casting his spell. So he threw his weighted chain in a swirling arch. Hawke hadn’t expected Edzard to throw his weapon and became entangled in the chain. Edzard reached into his belt and pulled out his blow dart. 

“Your mine now, prey!” Edzard said in triumph, and took a deep breath. 

Hawke met his gaze square without any hint of desperation, and said, “We are only prey if we stop trying to survive.”

The blow dart was knocked out of his hand by a dagger. Edzard turned to see Red running directly at him with Hound on his tail, dagger raised. Edzard raised his own dagger to defend himself. Red smiled as he leapt in a back flip over Hound charging him. The mabari barreled into Edzard, knocking him off his feet. 

“Stupid beast!” Edzard snarled and tried to get out from under the heavy mabari. He looked up in time to see Red throw the black ball at them. The ball exploded and covered them with black tar, sticking them to the ground. Edzard struggled but knew he was as trapped as Hawke had been. 

Hawke had shrugged off the chain, and called up a fire ball to his hand. He watched Edzard and said, “I did warn you.” 

He released the fire ball, and Edzard watched in horror as it descended on him. In a desperate attempt to live, Edzard used his mabari as a shield. The blast scorched his exposed skin and he screamed in pain. But the blast hadn’t killed him, and he felt his beating heart in his chest. He knew he had to run. Edzard struggled and found that the tar had harden in the blast and could be broken. 

Hidden by the smoke, Edzard tore himself out of the tar. He ran for the edge of the roof and leapt over. Edzard fell heavily on a tarp roof covering a pile of crates. The crates broke under his weight, cutting his arms with splinters but saving his life. Edzard painfully pulled himself from the wreckage. He glanced up to see the red hair boy looking over the edge before disappearing.

Edzard sighed with relief that they weren’t coming after him. He struggled to walk down the alley, clutching his bleeding shoulder. As he did so, he swore and cursed Hawke to the Void. 

“I’ll be back, and when I do, I’ll mount that pretty head on my wall.” Edzard swore.

“Sorry, I can’t allow you to do that.” 

Edzard spun to see Jokumsen climbing down a ladder. He leaned heavily against the wall, and snarled, “What are you doing here, knife ears?”

Jokumsen shook his head sadly, “Watching that pitiful display of skill. The great and mighty Hunter defeated not just by one but two children.”

Edzard snarled again, and said, “Had I more knowledge and time...”

“You had more than enough information, and time. You failed because you underestimated Hawke.” Jokumsen replied, approaching Edzard. “His majesty, told you what will happen when you fail.”

“Then come at me, knife ears,” Edzard said as he drew his dagger and pushed himself off the wall. He was ready to defend himself, and unlike Hawke, Jokumsen had no magic. He could handle a single lone thief.

“Look at you. I only need to lift a single finger to kill you,” Jokumsen laughed and held his arms wide. Edzard then noticed that hand sized cross bow that Jokumsen held. He looked down to see a tiny needle sticking out of his wounded shoulder. 

“You bastard!” Edzard roared and threw his dagger. But the dagger landed weakly at Jokumsen feet. 

The elf picked up the blade, and said conversationally, “Hmm, the poison isn't acting as quickly as I thought. I will have to change the formula.”

Edzard’s body thrashed and he fell to the ground. His eyes bulged as he couldn’t breathe, and opened his mouth wordlessly. 

“Do not worry, Edzard. I won’t let your failure go to waste.” Jokumsen said bending over Edzard to stare into his eyes. “I’ve spotted Hawke’s weakness even if you haven’t. And I’ll put that knowledge to good use. Good bye, Edzard.” 

Edzard fell into the Void.

 

Hawke watched Edzard jump over the roof edge, surprise the Hunter could still move. He had sacrificed his mabari to escape. The dog whined painfully in Hawke ears, and Hawke moved towards the mabari. 

Red rushed to the edge of the roof, and stared over, “He’s still alive. Shall I kill him?”

“Can you kill him from here?” 

“Shit, I lost my throwing knife.” Red swore checking his belt.

“Then don’t bother. It’s not worth the time tracking him down.” Hawke said, as he stood over the wounded mabari. The mabari couldn’t move, as burn marks covered his flank. Hawke guts twisted, he hated killing mabari’s as he loved the breed. The wounded dog looked so much like his old mabari, Bear. Hawke reached out his hand and the mabari growled when he saw it. Hawke began casting a healing spell over the mabari. 

“Hawke, what are you doing?” Red asked coming to his side. “That thing was trying to kill us, namely me.” 

“He didn’t have any choice about who his master was.”

“So? He would still happily eat you.” Red remarked as the mabari snapped at Hawke’s hand. 

“Easy, Hound.” Hawke said gently, remembering the name the hunter had called him. “The pain will be gone soon.”

Hawke watched the burns heal into pink scar tissues that covered Hound like stripes. The mabari sides twitched as he felt the pain fade. Suddenly he violently shook himself free of the tar and stood up, jumping away from Hawke. Hound barked loudly at Hawke, lowering his head in a snarl. 

Red drew his dagger, but Hawke halted him, saying, “Let him go. He doesn’t have any intent an attacking us.” Hawke recognized the mabari body language as confused not hostile. 

“Go on, go!” Hawke gestured with his hand. The mabari watched him for a moment before turning and running down the roof stairs. 

“I don’t understand. Why heal that beast? What do you gain? He’s just going to return to his master and come after you again.” Red asked, scratching his cheek.

“I once just killed any enemy coming after me. I’d kill and kill. But the enemies were endless, and soon I had hundreds dead left in my wake.” Hawke said hearing the ghostly echo of Jehanel in his ears. “Then I began healing people. I changed my out look at the how I can help people. But I know I can’t avoid killing my enemies. So I spare those I can. Then perhaps the future will be a better place.”

Hawke stared distantly at the horizon, lost in the grip of his memories. Suddenly he realized that the sun was setting and felt the urgency of getting back to the mansion. He turned and clapped Red on his shoulder, “Thank you, my friend. This plan wouldn’t have gone as well as it did without you.”

“You could have crushed him easily if you were really trying. You faced down a dragon.” 

“Yes, but not without alerting the Templars and destroying a part of the city. Magic must only be used as necessity demands. So I’m glad to have a friend to aid me.”

Red smiled then it faded as he said, “Hawke, there was another reason I came to find you. My master was only supposed to be here long enough to fulfill his contract. I’m going to be leaving with him. I don’t know when I am going to see you again.”

“Well, you keep yourself safe, my friend.”Hawke said, holding out his hand. Red looked at him sheepishly, and quickly used his dagger to cut his hand. 

“Ow, Red...” Hawke hissed, but Red cut his own hand and pressed it against Hawke’s.

Red met his eyes, said softly,“Now we are blood brothers. Loyal and friends until death.”

“A little bit more of a warning, Red.” Hawke said nursing his hand. Then he smiled and thumped Red’s shoulder, “You’ll always have a friend in me. If you remember my warning.”

“Blood brothers never betray each other. I like you too much.”

“Ai, I do, too. So you train hard, and don’t get killed. I wish you a long life, and maybe we will see each other again.”

Red leapt up on to the railing with a smile, proclaiming, “I’m going to be the best assassin in Thedas. So don’t you worry Hawke.”

“Sure, sure. Now off you go.” Hawke said shooing him away. “I got to get back to the mansion before I get into trouble. At least more than I already am.”

“Good bye, Hawke.” Red called as he jumped to the other roof. Hawke waved and turned his back. He quickly made his way through Kirkwall, hiding so no one saw his armor. When he got into the mansion, he sighed and leaned against the door. He hauled his pack back on his shoulder and made his way back to his room. 

Walking into the hall Hawke was met my a very unhappy and scowling group of companions. As soon as they saw him they shouted his name.

Hawke sighed inwardly, thinking, “Friends what are you going to do without them.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note to self write bad guys to be more evil so I don't feel bad killing them.  
> On a another note; We've past 50 Kudos! Thank you so much for enjoying my writing. A special thank you to those who take the time to comment. I enjoy reading them, often looking at them a couple of times.  
> So Thank you again, and Have a Good Day!

**Author's Note:**

> But anyway you got to the end. Yah! I do all of my own edits so if you see mistakes go ahead and point them out.  
> Thank you for read. Have a good day!


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